#Like what you like and do what you want forever
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You knooooowwww... >.>
The only difference, technically, between a school in the Zone? And on Earth? Is the American government won't recognize your Zone diploma...
Not accredited. But like..... I'm JUST SAYING? If you didn't try to pass your school off as some Big Ivy League type? Pulled the "oh yeah, you'd never have heard of it, it's local." And the COMPUTERS say it's legit?
How many people will dig deeper?
If you legitimately have the knowledge, you legitimately have the knowledge. Not YOUR fault you left out the whole "extra-dimensional" part. It makes folk nervous! And nervous folks get stabby.
So like? If you were ALREADY planning to "Move" as you euphemistically put it? Talked it over with your VERY concerned folks and friends? Who do NOT like the look of the steady but concerning rise of Anti-Ghost Powers That Be? Who finally put their foot down and reminded you that you are a TEENAGER and it's NOT your responsibility to fix the world?
Well...
Fuck those guys, I guess. You'll miss the old house, but Team "Taking our ball and going literally anywhere else" makes some good points. Why ARE you putting up with this?
And honestly, you've never SEEN your dad have so much fun. Him and the Reality Realtor just sorta... Vibe. Himbo to Himbo communications. Smatters of advanced physics. Fudge. It's great.
They move the portal. Collapse the old one in a way that makes it impossible to recover or recreate. You... kinda don't want to ask. They had that "mad scientist glint" in their eyes.
And while everyone's checking out brochures to different realities? You? Head off to the nearest College. It's the Zone, so technically you could go to any of endless billions. But you'd like your education some time this century.
Cue! Danny Fenton! Entering?
Academia's wet dream. A sprawling CITY of a college. Where the classes are on EVERYTHING and the price is FREE. People have Obsessions okay?? They NEED to teach. Debate and discuss! Study! Right papers and read them! It's been going on a while! And what happens when you find a subject that's NOT covered?
YOU COVER IT!
It's like if New York was a College. Good fucking luck find the dorms. Sleep on the floor like the rest of us, you casual.
Danny was Not Prepared ™.
He loves it though.
Classes on aeronautics next making the perfect sandwich, shoved next to historical basketry, stacked above alien slam poetry. But only on Tuesdays! Ever shifting. Breaking his Fenton Born Adhd in to a fine PASTE to be smeared upon bread. Happy mental stimulation chemicals go Brrrrrrrr
If it wasn't wildly inappropriate, he would LICK IT to claim it as his then wrap around it and gaurd like a territorial cat. He thought he HATED school! Turns out he just hated high-school. College though? College, or at least ZONE College, is fuckin AWESOME.
He's sit in SO MANY random classes just cause.
Picked up and dropped them at a whim. When they no longer sparked joy. He's been a flighty bitch and for once? No one CARES. No one says "you HAVE to commit and stick with this FOREVER once you choose this" and? It just? It's so FREEING! He's learned so MUCH!
He's probably gonna come back!
Which? Is how a deeply, DEEPLY weird aerospace engineer from supposedly bumfuck NOWHERE, end up working at Wayne Industries. He's.... a lil crazy behind the eyes. Ha ha... CONCERNING ™!
Dude sleeps on the lab floor. Has weirdly spotty knowledge. Can be an unprecedented genius one second and not know who the current president is the next. Doesn't know what DAY it is. Forgets to eat. Tried to make a fusion reactor out of the break room toaster before Sandra from accounting distracted him with pictures of her cat.
It's like he wanders through life blissfully unaware that he is both terrifying and about three seconds from killing them all. Then FUCKING TRIPS because he forgot to tie his shoelaces again.
Who hired this man?
WHY!?
I mean, we KNOW why. Probably to put him on a watch list. But? He's like a terrifying murder puppy! Built like a tank! That's stoned out of its mind half the time. And have you HEARD his college stories? That CAN'T be legal. Was this guy raised in a cult!? Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!????
@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter
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fuck me, i’m famous
｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･
paring: rockstar!natasha romanoff x reader
summary: when your boyfriend drags you along to a rock concert of a band you barely know, and then ceremoniously dumps you to go out with his friends after, it feels like your night can’t get any worse. thankfully, the guitarist of the band seems to take a particular interest in you and offers you an alternative offer on how to spend your night that seems just too good to refuse.
warning(s): cheating (r has a bf), but he’s a shitty bf, oc male character, band jargon that may or may not be correct, alcohol consumption, copious amounts of flirting, slight mention of crystals, swearing, many pet names, first time with a woman, smut, fingering, thigh riding, masturbation, scissoring, multiple orgasms, hickeys, natasha talking you through things, lots of praise, slight degradation (?), minors dni.
authors note: okay i feel like this is kinda bad and messy but i also spent too much time on it not to post. i’m still getting used to writing smut and haven’t wrote anything like this before so i hope it’s okay 😭😭 the end is also rushed so plz just ignore that :))
wc: 12.2K words
You've seen enough books and movies to know how things are supposed to go. How that perfect moment comes, when the pieces fall into place and you suddenly realize this is what you're meant to do, what you've always meant to do. But you've also lived a life long enough to know it never actually happens. In truth, it's all a bunch of bullshit.
There's never such thing as love at first sight, no moment where the world freezes on everyone except you and music plays in slow motion in the background, your eyes falling on that one person through the crowd that you just know your heart only beats for. In real life, the cards just don't fall like that. There's too many shitty people and grievous circumstances for the true movie dream to ever be lived, forever just a piece of fiction one can only fantasize of.
You know all this, understand it to be true. And yet, one hot Summer night, it feels like it all melts away and that fairy tale veil falls down right in front of your very own eyes.
It's not slow when it happens, not like in the movies. It's fast and loud and hot and sweaty. The music around you blares into your ears, bodies beside you screaming out lyrics you barely know. In the crowded space, you at least try to have a good time, try to mimic your boyfriend's energy as he dances and sings beside you, but you know its all futile. You want to leave. Truly, never wanted to come in the first place, but had done for him, for all his pleas and begs. You'll love it, I promise. Please come, baby, please.
The lights are hurting your eyes, the fog burning at your irises. Everyone is far too close to you, strangers pressing up against your sides from the front row section your boyfriend, Tyler, had demanded you needed. You don't feel it right all the back there. You need to be close to feel it in your bones. You feel a little sick.
And then that's when it happens. Body jostling against the side of the raised stage, ears ringing from being far too close to the speakers, that's when your own movie moment finally crashes into you. It's quick, so quick you don't even take notice till a few seconds after it happens. As your eyes raise to the band playing in front of you, they graze over each of the members. The brunette hugging the microphone center stage; the other behind hammering into a black drum set; the tall blonde whose fingers dance over the fretboard of a blue bass; and then finally, the woman playing an electric guitar stage right the same color as her fiery red hair. When you meet her eye it's like one of those moments back in high school, when you're accidentally caught making eye contact with someone across the class. But this time, unlike any time with your classmates, the redhead doesn't screw her face up, passing you a dirty look. What the fuck are you looking at? Instead, she winks.
Seconds later her gaze is gone, returned to the vibrating audience, and it takes you just about as much time to even acknowledge what had just happened. It seems fake, like a miscommunication in the space of a blink. Surely you must be imagining things, the heat in the room finally getting to you. But no, you're so sure of it. So set on what you've seen. A few moments later, it's like it's confirmed. The redhead's sights turn back on you, looking down into the pit of bodies where you stand. This time she holds, her eyes trained to yours as she continues to pluck the strings of her guitar. A small smirk stretches across painted lips, teeth plunging down into plump flesh. The music doesn't slow like it does in the movies. In fact, it seems almost louder than ever as you hold contact with the redhead's playful gaze. And when she winks again, chin jutting in your direction, you know it's you she's looking at.
You feel a little too seen, and not so much in a good way. You don't feel that special moment you read about in books, the time you are the chosen one across the sea of other bodies, a spark lighting in your heart at the romanticism of it all. It actually only drives one question in to your head; why the fuck is she looking at me?
You duck your eyes away, looking to the floor and the scuffed boots on your feet. There's a half-full cup of water a few inches in front of you. You watch as dancing feet almost collide with it, surely only seconds a way from being spilled. It holds your attention for a long time, so long your boyfriend is grasping at your cheek to check you're alright. You smile the way you always seem to do. Lips painting a picture of 'yes, I'm fine', while your brain screams out in contradicting protest. How much longer till this thing is done? My fucking head hurts.
When the final song does eventually roll around, you're too lost in your own thoughts to even care. The redhead guitarist has made eye contact with you three more times since you'd first noticed. If there was any doubt you had she wasn't seeking you out, it was surely dissipated now. Each time your eyeline had actually raised to the stage in front of you, it was like the woman's eyes were already waiting for you.
Trying to hold back the dizziness from gazing down at the floor, you had tried to remember the redhead's name. In no offence to the band, or their adoring fans lined up behind you, you actually didn't know of them much at all. Sure, you've heard their songs blasted through your boyfriend's speakers, saw their faces on cassettes and cd's dumped around your apartment, but you've never truly been a follower of the band Crimson Coven. You try to rack your brain of the knowledge you have, of every rant your boyfriend has been on that you so casually zone out from. The lead singer's name is Wanda, you know that much. She seems to be his favourite from the amount of things you've heard him rattle on. She's never even taken singing lessons. She's actually European, isn't that sick? Did you know she has a twin brother? You should do your makeup like her, babe.
The redhead has you thrown for a loop though. There are two names swimming in your head, though you're pretty sure the drummer is the one named Maria and Carol doesn't seem to fit the guitarist stood on the right. For the life of you it seems you can't draw the name from your head. It stays that way until the concert is finishing, stood watching the four women walking off stage, screaming out "thank you's" and collecting thrown objects on to the small stage, all the while you notice a certain member's eyes still trained on you. You simply turn away and grab on to Tyler’s hand, letting him guide you out of the dissipating crowd. God, you can't wait to get home.
The line to the bathroom is a slight roadblock in your plan. It's not torturously long by any means, but it still has you stood outside pressing your thighs together as you try desperately to hold in the three cans of beer you'd drank before the gig had began. You're regretting that decision now as the line filters slowly into the venue's singular women's bathroom. Seriously, what the fuck is up with that? If it weren't for the half hour journey you had back to your place, you would have considered just holding it, but if the pain in your stomach were any indication, you weren't going to make it that far.
When it's finally your turn, you all but run into the cubicle. It's quieter in there, a barricade between the groups of people who’ve chosen to stay to socialize in the venue's lounge and bar area. The stall is not only a relief for your full bladder, but also your pounding head. You stay in there longer than what's needed, most likely angering the girls waiting outside, but you just can't help it. It's cool and quiet and a desperate contrast to the overstimulating room you'd just spent the last two hours in. After washing your hands, you take the time to check up on your makeup, licking the tip of your finger to fix the slightly smudged liner of your eyes. All in all, you're pretty intact considering the circumstances. A pleasing picture that will soon be washed away as you head home for a night of constant reiterations of the concert you'd just experienced.
You're almost rolling your eyes already at the thought, so easily predicting your boyfriend's behavior for the next several hours. It's this state of disapproval that blinds you as you open the door to the bathroom, not noticing the taller woman standing there before she's backing you up into the stall.
You stumble slightly as the presence walks towards you, your eyes adjusting to the other person who has suddenly joined you in the room. For a moment their back is turned, locking the door to the stall before their face is revealed to you. You curse a little under your breath when you recognise the features.
"There you are. God, do you know hard it was to track you down? Slipped right in here before I could get to ya."
The redhead in front of you breathes out her words, smiling down at you in a way that flips your stomach. It's in that moments everything truly comes crashing down. Every doubt you had, every belief that things like this don't happen in real life is swept away as the famous guitarist stands in front of you. It really was you she was looking at from the stage and now she'd tracked you down. Pinned you into a bathroom stall as she looks down on your figure with her eyes wide, almost drunk. "Uhm, hi?" Is all you manage to say, the entirety of the situation still comprehending itself in your mind.
The redhead in front of you smirks widely as she responds. "Hi." It's then that it hits you, the name you couldn't pinpoint earlier. Natasha. Natasha Romanoff. Lead guitarist of Crimson Coven. You're trying to remember anything Tyler might have said about her when she takes another step in your direction.
"Wow," she breathes, almost to herself. "You're even prettier up close." Her eyes seem to trace over your whole figure, her tongue playing with the inside of her cheek. "Fuck, you're gorgeous."
"Uhm...thank you?" you stutter back, not entirely sure of how you're supposed to act in this situation. You're still trying to get over the shock of her pushing you back into the bathroom before you'd tried to leave. Not sure what else to do, your own eyes trail over the star stood ahead of you. She's still wearing her outfit from her performance; an old looking graphic tee tucked into a pair of black denim shorts. The boots on her feet have silver embellishments that match perfectly with the necklaces around her neck and many rings adorning her fingers. Her lips are painted a shade of faded red that both contrasts and yet somehow works perfectly with her hair, curled and messy around her shoulders. As you look over her, the thought of why your boyfriend may just like her band so much crosses your mind. She really was hot as shit.
But despite her looks, there's still an anxiety bubbling in your chest at this situation. It’s probably not often people could get this close to the star, let alone be held up in a room alone with her. Yet your ears are still ringing and the only true wish crossing your mind's eye is your bed. So, disappointing every girl who'd rather be in your place, you simply clear your throat as you gesture mindlessly to the door behind her. "I think there's people waiting outside to use this cubicle."
The rockstar cocks her head, smirking back. "Oh yeah?" She shrugs, only briefly glancing over her shoulder at the closed bathroom door. "I'm sure they'd be fine waiting. Didn't mind letting me cut through the line." When she smiles back at you, you assume the look in her eye is a mirror of how a predator looks at its prey. You find your lip between your teeth as you look back, very aware of just how much time you'd already spent in this bathroom and how there was a lot of people stood outside who would be becoming increasingly more annoyed at the occupied status, rockstar be damned. Though her attitude remains relaxed, the redhead in front of you seems to pick up on your hesitation because she lets out a low sigh. "Look, if you're really that bothered why don't don't we leave and your pretty ass can join me backstage?"
She takes another step towards you, eyes darkening a they take in your figure. You swallow the saliva in your mouth in an attempt to cool the burn in your stomach. "Sorry-I um-I have a boyfriend," you manage to stutter out, taken aback by her advances. She definitely was hitting on you, that much was clear now, but you knew that Tyler would be waiting for you somewhere, most likely wondering why the fuck you were taking so long to pee.
When your words ring out, its like the redhead's brain short circuits. She almost freezes, only her brows moving to pull into a deep frown. "Shit," she murmurs. "Really?"
You nod in response, fingers playing with the back of your shirt. "Yeah." The redhead looks awfully confused, her gaze trailing over you as if there's something she's missed. When her eyes meet yours once more, its like your answer is a complete mystery to her, like there's something she saw you must have missed in your own reflection. You try to brush it off, not delving into whatever thoughts must be running through the star's head. Instead you just clear your throat again, pointing to the door. "He's um- probably waiting for me."
A tight smile passes across your lips as you slowly move towards the door. The redhead lets you go, ever so slightly brushing past her arm without another word said. You reach for the handle of the door, turning it open before leaving the rockstar behind to wallow in whatever confusion or disappointment runs through her head. You just want to find Tyler and get the hell out of there.
When you finally emerge from the bathroom stall, it feels even warmer than it had before. Though now you're not entirely sure if it's just the air, or also the blood you can feel coursing through your cheeks. You try your best to brush it off, looking around the space to try and locate wherever your boyfriend might have wondered off to. Walking past the line of remaining girls, you have to try ignore their passing stares. Most are likely from your extended use of the bathroom, holding them up even further, but you can't help but feel at least a few are thinking about whatever happened between you and Natasha in that stall and why on earth you had the nerve to leave such an opportunity unfulfilled.
Trying to leave the entire interaction behind, you move to the main area of the venue lounge to try find your boyfriend so you can finally head home. It takes you a good few minutes of searching through the crowds before you spy him across the way, stood talking with all of his friends that he'd brought along to the concert.
"Tyler," you call, passing through bodies to get to him. When he doesn't seem to hear you, you shout again. "Tyler!"
Finally, he turns around, a look of recognition passing over his face as you appear by his side. "Oh there you are, babe," he says. "Where the hell did you go?"
"I was just-I was peeing," you reply, looking around sheepishly at the group of men all staring down at you. It wasn't that you didn't like Tyler's friends per se, it was more so they just weren't your type of people. Most times they’re around, you manage to skilfully skirt around them until a time when they've all gone back home.
Tyler scoffs a little at your comment. "You were gone for like half an hour." He laughs, gesturing to the group as they all join in.
"Yeah. Um-the line was long," you say, trying to avoid the annoyance creeping up your spine as well as skirt around the encounter you'd had just moments ago. Partially because you were still trying to wrap your head around it but also because you didn't want to hear whatever he had to say about what happened. Instead, you just let out a small sigh. "Can we just go home now?"
"Oh actually," Tyler starts. "We were thinking of hitting up a few bars before we went home."
The words hit you like a blast of hot air, unable to deny the feeling of annoyance brewing under your skin. Still, you try to remain sweet in hopes he'll seek pity on you. "Tyler, please," you reply. "I'm tired, can't we just-"
"You don't have to come."
He cuts you off quickly, halting the words in your throat. The attitude you can hear in his voice almost immediately breaks the facade of kindness you were putting on. "Excuse me?"
Tyler shrugs, having the nerve to look annoyed, like you're the one being unreasonable here. "Just call a cab home. You'll be fine." And with that it seems he's had enough of the conversation, turning his shoulders away as he beckons his group to follow.
"No, Tyler wait," you try, but he continues to move away. The only thing you receive is him quickly turning over his shoulder, calling out a goodbye as he promises to see you later.
"Tyler!" You yell but it's futile, the image of your boyfriend already swallowed up by the crowd. "Fuck."
For the second time tonight it feels like you have no idea how to react. You swivel around on the spot, like a lost kid in a grocery store. Some part of you can't believe he would just leave you like that, but then the other part understands it's him all over. Stupid selfish prick.
Far past being annoyed at the night's events, you reach for the phone buried in your jacket pocket, determined to just do as you were told and order a cab home. When the screen returns to you black, the only image your own reflection staring back at you even as you press the power button repeatedly, a long string of curses escape your lips. Stupid fucking phones and their stupid ass batteries. And of course tonight had to be the night you had forgone your charger, leaving you with just a useless weight of metal that you slip back into your pocket. Just my fucking luck.
For a moment, you're stuck on what to do, how to find a way home, but then your eyes fall on the bar across the room. You make your way through the crowd, squeezing past people and mumbling half-assed 'sorry's' and 'excuse me's' until you eventually reach the bar. When you do, the bartender walks over to you, a small smile appearing on his face. "Hi, what can I get for you?"
"Actually, I was just wondering if you could call me a cab?" you reply, raising your voice to be heard over the venue's loud music.
The bartender furrows his brow. "What?"
"A cab," you repeat, leaning in further to his ear. "Can you call me a cab, please? My phone is dead."
"Oh, I can't sorry," he responds, shrugging his shoulders. "Phone is broken."
"What? Can't you use your mobile or-"
"Not while I'm on shift."
He shrugs again. You scoff.
"Please. I really need to get home."
"Sorry," the bartender responds finally, turning away to move towards another customer down the bar.
You watch him go, scowling. When he starts to talk to someone else, asking for their order, another waterfall of curses fall from your tongue. How the fuck were you supposed to get home now?
"Hey gorgeous."
The voice all but pulls you from your thoughts and to the right, dragging you away from the harsh stare you were given the unhelpful bartender. When your eyes fall to the person who had sidled up beside you, a small sigh slips out, your eyes rolling in their sockets.
"Wow," the redhead responds, easily picking up on your bad attitude. She holds her hands up. "Sorry to offend."
You look back at the rockstar, at Natasha. It seems she's found you again in a moment where you want nothing more than to find a way out of there. Though despite your frustration, you know it's not her fault, that she isn't the one controlling the universe so adamant on your downfall tonight. So, you force yourself to soften your expression as you turn back to her. "No. No, I'm sorry," you say, shaking your head slightly. "It's just- I'm trying to get a cab home but apparently their phone is broken." You gesture towards the bar, displaying the utter uselessness of its bartender with the look on your face.
Natasha seems to take a little amusement in your frustration, the faintest of a smile appearing on her face. "You ain't got your own phone to call a cab?" The mobile is received from your pocket, quickly held up by your hand as you flash the dead device to the redhead opposite. She sighs, tilting her head back. "Ah, I see. What about that boyfriend of yours? Couldn't he call you a cab?"
You're a little surprised to hear her mention that piece of information, even if you'd only shared it with her minutes before in the bathroom stall. The mention of his presence is enough to drag the long sigh from your chest as you stare down at the bar. "Not when he's the reason I need one."
"Alright, I'm gonna need you to elaborate on that one."
Her words draw your eyes back to her, briefly grazing over her face before you respond. "He left with his friends. Gone off to some other bar. Told me to phone a cab home."
Natasha lets out a breath of air. "Dickhead." You watch her as she takes a sip from the beer in her hand, trying not to notice the way her lips look pressed against the top of the bottle. "You know, a pretty girl like you shouldn't have to wait around on assholes like that."
And then there's that same heat you felt in the bathroom, creeping up your cheeks unwelcome. You turn away again as you shrug in an attempt to hide it. "He's not that bad-"
"Sure," Natasha cuts you off before you can even finish your explanation. In truth, you weren't even sure what else you were going to say, what redeeming qualities you could draw about the boy who'd left you stranded in the city to go get drunk with his friends. Instead you just turn to the woman sat beside you, only shallowly realising how she is in fact a minor celebrity and that a lot of the people around were probably looking over at the pair of you. But when Natasha smiles and leans in, it's like it all disappears. "Alright, lemme tell you this. You let me buy you one drink and I'll phone you a taxi home."
You look back at the rockstar sat across from you, letting her words settle into your mind. This close you can once again tell just how beautiful she is, how any girl in this room would pay good money to be where you are right now. But you don't want to be that kind of girl, the kind that chases after someone just because they have a little bit of fame. Nevertheless, there is something about the redhead that draws you in. Maybe it's the layers of piercings you can see stacking her ears, or the patchwork of tatoos lining her exposed arms. Whatever it is, something about her is making you want to follow whatever she says. Furthermore, her offer is one that is rather too good to refuse. After a moment, you sigh as you nod your head. "Fine. One drink."
Natasha Romanoff smirks, calling the bartender over almost immediately with two fingers. It's the same tilted smile you had seen her passing you from across the stage, though now you can take notice of the small dimple that appears on her cheek when those lips pull taught. Everything about this encounter was setting something alight inside you but you couldn't quite put your finger on it.
When your drink finally arrives - curtesy of a different bartender - you decidedly join the rockstar on the stools lined up against the bar. The leather is sticky and uncomfortable against the exposed skin under your skirt. Still, you ignore it as you look over at the redhead to your right, slowly taking a sip of the cocktail you'd ordered as you get the opportunity to voice the question that's been on your mind for the last couple hours. "Why were you looking at me on stage?"
"Why'd you think?" Natasha smirks the widest you've seen all night, licking her bottom lip as she turns to you. "I thought maybe you and I could have some fun but…you had to be little miss taken." You try not to react to her words, or moreover the way her eyes drag themselves over your body, particularly your exposed thighs against the red leather of the barstool. "Maybe we could still have some fun yet tho, hm?" Natasha finishes, her eyes returning to yours. Even in the dim light of the bar you can tell they're blown out, pupils wide as they drink you in.
You let out a sigh. "Listen, in the nicest way possible, I don't actually really know who you are and I don't know about this whole thing you're doing, if it's normal but-"
"Wait," Natasha cuts you off. "You were in the front row and don't know who I am?"
You feel a little bashful as you shrug your shoulders. "I mean- I kinda do, I guess. I mean- I've listened to a few of your band's songs but I'm not like- a fan or anything."
"Not a fan?" Natasha breathes, reaching to take another sip of her drink with an amused expression. "So tell me, how does a girl who's not a fan end up hugging the stage all night?"
You take a sip of your own cocktail before you reply. "My boyfriend bought the tickets."
"Ah there it is," Natasha nods. "The boyfriend yet again." She turns in her chair, legs moving to dangle off the side. "You know, he's not really our target demographic."
You know exactly what she's talking about, almost too quickly. It was rather obvious to you that Crimson Coven was not a band trying to attract straight men, even if they did flock to them over their members' good looks. "Yeah, I tried to tell him that," you reply, sipping on your drink.
One of the redhead's brows raises, eyes tracing over your face. "What's that one saying?" she ask, swirling the bottle in her hands. "Takes one to know one?" You feel the saliva pool in your throat as she looks back at you, smirk wider than ever. Swallowing harshly, you take a rather big swig of your drink, trying your best to ignore the way you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. Natasha simply breathes out a laugh. "I think you're maybe not as you first seem, little lady." Right then there's a look that passes between you, your eyes wide and questioning, Natasha's dark and hooded. Then her hand is landing on your thigh, just above your knee where the skin is exposed. Her thumb strokes back and forth delicately as she licks her lips. "Why don't you tell me your name?"
There's a strange bubbling inside your stomach, a flutter to your heart. You want to turn and walk right out of there, ditch the rockstar in front of you and try your luck hailing a cab on the street. But part of you notices the shiver her touch sends up your thigh, how her skin is warm against yours in just the right kind of way, how despite your circumstances, just how amazing this moment feels. "Y/N," you reply eventually, swallowing your first instincts to the warm pit of your stomach.
"Y/N," the redhead repeats, rolling the name over her tongue. "I'm-"
"Natasha. I know."
She seems taken aback by your quick answer, cutting off her sentence before she can finish. She frowns slightly back at you. "I thought you said you didn't."
Now it's your turn to raise your brow. "I said I wasn't a fan. Not that I didn't know your name."
"I see," Natasha replies, her voice laced with amusement. She smiles to herself as she sips her beer, turning back with a wide grin. "You know, I've never slept with a Y/N before."
"You sleep with a lot of girls then?"
"I've done the rounds," Natasha shrugs. The nonchalant nature of her reply is enough to have you passing her a displeased look across the bar. She raises her brow, looking back at you. "What? You want me to lie to you? Tell you I'm the virgin mary?"
You want to laugh in response but hold yourself back, entirely aware of the game Natasha is trying to play. "So...what?" you draw out, playing with the rim of your glass. "You want me to be one of your new collectibles?"
"Well maybe if I get lucky."
You turn back to the smirking redhead. "I wouldn't buy a lottery ticket."
And she laughs, like really laughs right into her drink before she takes a sip. When she places it back on the bar, she shakes her head as she turns to look at you with a smirk. "You know most girls flock to my side," she says, raising a brow. "Asking for autographs or pictures."
"I already told you. I don't know that much about your band."
"You're here though, aren't you?" Natasha replies. "You must know some things."
She isn't entirely wrong. Sure, you knew of the things your boyfriend has endlessly droned on about. About Wanda being the one who named the band. Or about Carol and her cat, or Maria and her brief military background. You even knew about Natasha, little sparks in your memory of her coming from Russia or her hair being blonde at some point. It's all stored in the backlog of your brain, hours of knowledge you'd spent years sorting into the dusty compartments of your mind you never cared to look at. Still, there's something now about speaking to Natasha in real time, not hearing about your boyfriend's idealised version of her that feels a little different. Things here feel a little more real.
You don't acknowledge Natasha's question as you take a sip from your drink. "You want me to ask for your autograph?" you ask as you place the glass back down. "Is that it?"
The answer that follows is in such a low register you can barely hear it over the music. "I think we both know what I want."
You look back at Natasha, at her dazzling smirk and messy red hair. "Well I'm sorry to disappoint but I'm not your girl." A tight smile appears on your lips as you gaze out into the sea of bodies across the room. "Why don't you go find someone else?"
"Why would I when you're the prettiest thing in here?" Natasha's response is quick, almost as quick as the way her eyes divert to to rest if your body. "Hell, I'd go as far as to say you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen."
"Listen," you sigh. "I appreciate the flattery but-"
"I ain't fucking around if that's what you think," Natasha says quickly, cutting you off. The look in her eye as she scans your face shows how genuine her words feel. "You caught my eye the second I stepped on stage. You're fucking gorgeous, angel. Forgive me if it's a crime to want to see more."
Despite your better instincts, you let out a laugh into your glass. No one has ever been this forward with you before, never complimented you so much to the point you can feel the heat of their words on your skin. Hell, not even Tyler was ever this keen to get you into bed. And you know you shouldn't like it, shouldn't fall for the rockstar's methods, but you can't help but enjoy the praise just a little bit.
That feeling is soon quashed however when your temple gives a sudden jolt of pain. You wince slightly, reminded of the too-loud atmosphere you'd spent the last few hours in. The alcohol probably wasn't helping much either.
"What's wrong?"
You're a little surprised when Natasha speaks, unaware of her having noticed your small flinch at the pain. You simply shake your head in response, smiling back at her. "Nothing. I'm fine. It's just a headache."
"You know," the rockstar replies quickly. "It's cooler backstage. Quieter too." You must give her a look laced with poison because she holds her hands up in defence once again, though this time smirking back at you. "Hey, Im just saying."
Despite your glare, you're still interested in the redhead sat opposite you. It's like even with her forward approach, you can't help but be drawn to some part of her. You try to avoid the smile that creeps back on to your face as you look back into her eyes. "Does this routine usually work for you?"
Natasha chuckles to herself before leaning in to speak. "Honey, by now I usually have a girl screaming my name as she rides my face."
It's now you're entirely glad of the dimness in the room, hiding the flushed state that rises in your throat and heats up your cheeks. You can feel yourself getting worked up by Natasha's bold statement, unsure of what to do with yourself or how to respond. In doubt of yourself, you simply reach for the cocktail glass in front of you and down the rest of the liquid. It burns a little going down but you find you don't mind it. Anything to take away from the feeling you can recognise brewing in your stomach.
You can just about feel Natasha's smirk as much as you can see it, pressing into the side of your head as she watches you become flustered, clearly enjoying the effect she is having on you. "Here," she says, adjusting herself in the chair. "Let me buy you another one."
You turn to meet her eye, holding it harshly. "I said one drink."
That smirk remains for a long while as Natasha just looks back at you, not answering for a few passing moments. It even stays as she lifts one of her arms, arching it so it comes to rest on the back of your barstool, officially caging in your conversation. "Alright," she drawls, her body leaning in towards yours. "Look at it like this. I can buy you another drink and we can talk some more. Maybe think about heading backstage, get you somewhere quieter. Or..." The redhead licks her licks, pausing as she angles her head. "I can phone you that cab now and you can mope in the backseat till you get home. Then, stumble into your cold apartment alone and just wait for your drunk boyfriend to get home and sidle up next to you in bed."
The blatant look on Natasha's face is a good representation of how you feel about the whole situation she's proposed. The thought of dealing with Tyler later is enough to have you rolling your eyes, already imagining his drunken state reaching out for you and wiping wet kisses along your neck, stinking of booze and the remaining perfume of whatever girl he's been chatting up at the bar. It's almost like a routine you've both fallen into, simply ignoring it every time until without fail, it'll happen again.
And maybe tonight you're done with it. Maybe tonight is the night you don't want to have to deal with him anymore, to hear him talk about himself for hours on end like you don't even exist. It's partially the thought of finally letting that go that pulls you in the direction you choose, but it's also largely down to the way you can feel Natasha pressing in closer, her face moving just inches from yours as her lips press up against your ear. Somehow, it's like you can even feel her smirking as her lips barely graze the skin beside your face. "If you come with me, I promise you won't regret it."
Maybe it is that that finally does it for you, the shiver of goosebumps running down your spine as you still feel the redhead's hand grazing your thigh. Maybe it's that or maybe it's the heat finally getting to you, or the alcohol hitting your head. It could be any of those, or maybe combination of them all. Whatever your brain decides to settle on as a reason, it doesn't really matter because within seconds, you're calling over the bartender for another drink, allowing yourself to fall into whatever rabbit hole Natasha Romanoff is offering you.
"I knew I'd like you, Y/N," the redhead whispers close, grinning widely at your acceptance. You don't say anything in response until the bartender is placing your vodka coke on the bar. And even then, just as you reach for the glass, Natasha is diverging any words you may have spoken as she grabs hold of your hand. "Come on," she calls and it's a challenge not to spill any of the drink as the redhead quickly begins to pull you from the bar.
"Natasha, wait-" you try to respond, not entirely sure of where this might be going, but the star is quickly cutting you off as she presses her lips together.
"Shh," she drags, looking back at you over her shoulder. "It's okay, angel. It's better back here, I promise."
Something in you gives in because you let her drag you through the crowds of the room, trying desperately not to spill the beverage in your hands. You notice on the way a few recognising faces that glance at Natasha, then almost turn a little sour as they fall onto you. You only get the chance to wonder about their jealousy for a few moments before Natasha has pulled you away from everyone entirely, slipping you through a door into a quiet corridor. And then, after turning a few corners and dodging a few stacks of equipment crates, she pulls you through another door into an entirely empty room.
It's only then does the redhead finally release your hand, letting you roam free as she crosses to sit on one of the sofas positioned within the room. Beside them, there's stacks of band equipment, most of which you don't quite recognise. The red guitar on the stand is easy, and the set of drumsticks lying on a table, but the speakers and wires sit in a valley of other items you probably couldn't name if you tried.
There are scatterings of personality throughout the space; a leather jacket thrown over a couch, an ashtray of old cigarettes on a coffee table, some cards laying close beside it. And for a moment you wonder if this is what Natasha Romanoff's life is like. Backrooms full of band equipment, roaring crowds that call out her name. An endless supply of money and booze and cigarettes and girls. It's so so far away from the reality that you live that it can't help but be a little fascinating, this room just a little window into the life of a true rockstar.
The one thing you do very quickly notice however, is the main luxury that the exclusive backstage room seems to have; air conditioning. Beautifully cool air floods your body as soon as the door closes behind you, your headache already cowering back in the quiet atmosphere. You just can't help but let out a long, appreciative sigh at the respite from the hot, humid air outside.
"Told ya." Natasha's voice calls as you see her throw herself down on one of the sofas, so easily slipping into her own space backstage.
You simply roll your eyes as you take a sip of the drink in your hand, surprisingly intact after lugging it across the venue. "So, where are your other friends?" you ask, looking more so at the room full of band things than the member sat on the couch across from you.
Natasha sighs, sitting back as her eyes drag over you. "Probably in rooms close by hoping to get somewhere like me."
"And where exactly is that?" you ask, feet wandering across the opposite side of the room from the redhead. She smirks back at you, watching your every movement.
"Why don't you tell me, gorgeous?"
You can feel yourself smile, finally allowing Natasha's flirting get to you. But instead of replying to her question, you simply run your fingers over the red instrument propped up on the stand beside you. "How long have you played guitar?"
"Fifteen years," Natasha replies quickly, unwavering at your change of topic.
You nod to yourself, looking down at the instrument. "Wow." There isn't anything you've probably committed to for that long, besides maybe school. You take a sip of your drink as you turn to lean on a table against the wall, now facing the still sitting redhead across the way. "How'd you meet the other girls?"
"It's a long story."
You hum in response, waiting just a moment for her to elaborate before you realise she's leaving it up to your own imagination. The two of you hold eye contact as you bring your drink up to your mouth, letting the bubbles pop on your lips as you drink before smoothing it over with your tongue. Theres a specific look in Natasha's eye you can't seem to recognise, almost as if she wants to eat you right where you stand. That smirk widens as you take another sip, your tongue yet again swiping over your lips and the sweet residual soda lingering there. It's then Natasha finally speaks, nodding her head in your direction. "Come here."
And you do. Placing your drink down on the table before pressing yourself up from it, you slowly make your way across the room to where Natasha sits. As you come to stand between her open legs, the rockstar sits up, her body straightening and her hands coming to rest on the sides of your hips. You let them explore a little as Natasha moves, forgoing the layer of your leather jacket and pressing directly beneath the hem on your shirt. Her fingertips feel calloused as they brush the skin beneath it, years of playing guitar coming to create the most amazing sensation as she brushes against your body.
"God, your skin is so soft," Natasha says lowly, almost to herself. It sounds like she's truly mesmerised, her entire being taken over by the feeling of you against her skin. And perhaps some part of you feels it too because without knowing what truly compels you, you find yourself lowering your body down into her lap. Natasha smirks as you come to rest upon her thighs, knees caging either side of her body. She glances down at the way your skirt rides up, only leaving little to the imagination of what lies beneath. Her hands come to rest there, stroking the soft skin of your upper thighs as you lift your arms above her shoulders, letting them fall behind her head as you stare into her eyes. From here, in the new lighting of the backstage room, you can see the sea of green that shrouds her pupils.
For a while you two just drink each other in, your bodies comfortably close as your eyes trace one another. Then, eventually Natasha is talking once more as her fingers reach out towards you. "What's this?"
You follow her eyeline down to your chest, watching the way her fingers have found the crystal hanging around your neck. "Aventurine," your reply.
Natasha smiles as she looks back at your face. "Wanda's the crystal lover so you'll have to enlighten me. What does this one do?"
You shrug a little. "It's brings a few things...Hope, optimism, prosperity. Mostly luck."
The redhead raises a brow as her voice finds that playful tone. "Luck?"
"Mhm," you hum, finding yourself leaning in just slightly closer. "Stone of opportunity."
"So you're telling me it's because of this little rock that I wound up with a pretty girl sat on my lap?"
You hold back a laugh as you search Natasha's smirking face. "Don't call it a rock."
"No?"
You shake your head, humming. "I think it offends them."
The two of you are pressed even closer now, your arms coming crossed behind Natasha's head as she pulls you in. Her voice is almost a whisper when she speaks. "I know some things I could do to offend a lot of people."
The breath you release is shaky as you feel Natasha's hand reach up to cusp your face. She holds your chin, finger so delicate across your skin before she reaches to trace your bottom lip, just momentarily pulling it down with her thumb.
And it's then, with her face pressed so close to yours, green eyes almost black with lust, that you finally let everything go and you lean in. The first kiss is electrifying. Like that first strum of a chord when the guitar kicks in in a song, the bass just rattling your bones and setting your nerves on fire.
Natasha's lips are beautifully soft against yours, a contrast to the harshness of her fingertips you can feel pressing into the side of your face. She tastes like cherry lip gloss and cigarette smoke, sweet but hazy to your senses. The redhead quickly takes a grip of your jaw, angling your head just right so she can drive the kiss deeper. You don't complain as she begins to domineer your mouth, tongue sliding across yours with the skills of a professional.
When you both finally pull back for air, you can only wonder why you forced yourself to wait for this so long. Her touch is like nothing you've ever felt before, your entire body simply set alight with a hunger for her. You look down at the redhead for a moment and Natasha smirks devilishly up at you, eyes blown wide before she's pulling you back in. Your hands hold the back of her neck as your lips collide once more, pulling her in as close to you as you can in a desperate need for more.
Natasha's fingers dance up your arms before you can feel her begin to press the leather jacket away from your shoulders. You move your hands to let her remove it, only hearing it crash to the floor as you try desperately to hold your lips against the rockstar's. A low whine erupts in your throat as you feel her pull away seconds later, your bruised mouth chasing hers.
But Natasha just lets herself grin as her hands caress your body, deft fingers running up and down your sides. Only moments later, she's reaching beneath the material of your shirt to pull it over your head. Her breaths are heavy as her eyes trace your exposed body, almost fixated on the swell of your breasts in the lacy balconette bra cladding your chest.
"Fuck," the redhead says under her breath. Her hands come up to caress your tits, squeezing them tenderly through the material as your own pants flow from your chest. Her lips connect soon after, kissing and nipping at the skin of your cleavage with delicate precision. You let your head fall back as the redhead pays attention to your chest, simultaneously sucking and playing with your tits with her mouth and hands, sending rolls of pleasure flooding down your spine.
When one of her hands slips up the bare skin of your back, her lips disconnect as she meets your eye. Her fingers play with the clasp of your bra as you look down at her. "Can I?" she whispers, face so close to your own.
"Uh huh," you reply, nodding your head quickly. It's only seconds later you can feel the release against your chest, Natasha's skilled hands making quick work of the clasp and tossing your brassiere to the side. Her attention is straight back on you as she reveals your bare chest, kissing the previously hidden skin as she murmurs soft praises into the flesh. "God, you're so beautiful."
Your fingers find a place running through her hair as she continues to play with your tits, red fibres intertwined with your painted nails. A string of softer sounds elicits from your throat as Natasha's fingers find your nipples, pinching and pulling at the hardened buds with just the perfect amount of pressure.
"Natasha," you breath out heavily, holding back a moan as her teeth replace her hands playing with your chest.
"Yeah baby?" the redhead responds, looking up at you but not removing her face from where it rests.
The look on her face only adds to the pool you can feel forming between your legs, all down to her touch and copious amounts of flirting. You want to see more of her, want to run your hands across her body. Not entirely confident enough to word it, you settle for a whine as you tug at her shirt. Thankfully, it seems Natasha is apt at picking up your signals because she smirks widely before reaching to untuck her shirt and pull it over her head.
As the rockstar tosses it somewhere across the room, you can't help but stare at the sight she's unveiled. Her tits sit beautifully in a red bralette, perked perfectly with pink nipples visible through the mesh material. Every part of you feels totally enamoured by her look, eyes unable to peel themselves away from her heavenly cleavage on display.
It's in your admiration, you find yourself distracted, not noticing the way the rockstar's hand has slipped up your skirt until you suddenly feel her touch against your underwear. A gasp escapes you as her fingers graze over your clothed core, most definitely feeling the way her tactics have saturated the material. The redhead makes eye contact with you, pupils dark. "This okay?" she whispers, voice as thick as honey.
It takes all your efforts to breathe out a response, entirely worked up by her touch. "Yeah," you reply, nodding quickly. By this point you would let her do whatever she wanted if it would soothe ache between your legs.
Natasha smiles widely as she hears your response. "Lift your hips for me," she says, playing a chaste kiss to your collar bone. You do ask she asks, rising up to your knees on the sides of the couch. It gives Natasha the room to hook her fingers underneath the sides of your underwear, pulling them down painfully slowly as she looks into your eyes. When she finally manages to slide them over your legs, she tosses them somewhere off to the side before pulling you back down to sit on her lap.
Just then, a sudden thought crosses your mind. "I've-I've never done this before," you stutter out. "With a woman, I mean."
You wonder for a moment if Natasha will be put off by your inexperience, but that thought is quickly extinguished when the redhead only smirks wider. "That's alright," she replies. "Cause I happen to be somewhat of an expert."
You let out the barest of a laugh at her words, letting the anxiety flood out of your mind. Natasha's smirk holds as you feel her hand creep up your skirt again, dancing over the delicate skin of your inner thigh. "Relax, sweetheart," she husks. "I got you now."
Her fingers move to again run over your centre, this time touching your bare skin as you feel her fingers trace your soaked folds. She collects the wetness pooling from your centre before dragging it up to your clit, spreading it as she slowly begins to circle the bud. A moan slips as she presses a little harder, her fingers perfectly pooling pleasure between your legs.
"That's it, baby," Natasha purrs, face close to your ear. "Let me hear all those pretty noises."
You feel your teeth plunge into your bottom lip as another moan slips from your throat. Natasha's touch is so teasingly slow you can't help but buck your hips a little into her hand. "Please-" you whine, desperate for her to do more.
Thankfully, Natasha obliges and another moan drawls from your chest as you feel her middle finger plunge into your core. Your muscles tense around her, pulling her finger in further as your face comes to burrow into the redhead's shoulder.
"Uh uh," Natasha sounds from above you. "Let me see your face, pretty girl." Her finger find your chin, directing your gaze back up until your eyes meet with hers."There you go."
She smiles widely as she leans in for a kiss, once again enveloping your lips in her sweet, sultry taste. The two of you press deeply into another, noses brushing together. You can feel Natasha's finger slowly begin to move inside you, teasing your walls as you whine against her mouth. Your lips only disconnect when you feel Natasha add another finger to the one pumping inside you, your face falling as a gasp sounds from your chest.
She works almost painfully slow, her fingers pulling virtually all the way out before steadily bottoming inside you once again. Each time, her fingertips press against that spot inside you, just softly enough for you to barely feel it. Chasing more of a high, your hips begin to rut against her hand. "Natasha," you whine, voice long and drawn out at her teasing attitude. Some part of you wonders if it's some form of payback for letting it take so long to get you in this position.
The rockstar places a soft kiss to the side of your neck before she's whispering in your ear, hot breath fanning out across the skin. "Shh, just ride my fingers," she says, smiling against you. You feel her free hand come to rest upon your hip, slowly guiding you to rut harder against her hand. Each time you do, you feel her fingers curl into that spot inside you, sending soft sighs of pleasure cascading from your lips.
"'Atta girl," Natasha husks, continuing to guide your movements with her palm. Your hands come to rest upon her shoulders, holding yourself up as you rock back and forth. The redhead's fingers slide in and out of you with each motion, the sounds of the wetness between your legs joined by the moans slipping from your tongue.
Natasha watches with wide eyes as you grind against her hand, fingers gripping into her shoulders as your pleasure grows. She lets her digits curl inside you, releasing sweet, sudden sounds from your lips. Her thumb moves to brush against your clit, the hardened surface sending shocks of pleasure through you each time you rock your hips.
"Fuck baby," Natasha says lowly, watching you practically fuck yourself on her lap. "Are you gonna make a mess?" she drawls. "You gonna make a mess all over my fingers for me?"
"Uh huh," you respond, barely managing to nod your head as you can feel that coil building tighter and tighter in your stomach. Natasha's touch is like electric to your skin, each thrust building to a crescendo at your core.
"Come on, angel," the redhead whispers. "Show me just how pretty you are when you cum."
Her words, alongside one last thrust of your hips is enough to send you toppling over that edge. Your moan is drawn out loudly as you feel yourself come undone, eyes slamming shut as you grip hold of Natasha's shoulders. Your body arches in to her, letting Nat take advantage of your chest with her mouth once more as her fingers ride you through your orgasm.
"Fuck," you breathe, finally starting to come down from your high. You open your eyes once more to see Nat smirking up at you, letting go of your nipple between her teeth as both of her hands now rest on your waist. As your mind clears, you let yourself begin to fall back down on to her lap, but when you accidentally land directly on her thigh, you feel a shock sent through your core. You wince, immediately lifting yourself back up at the sensitivity.
But Natasha seems to have other plans. "Shh, angel. It's okay," she murmurs as her hands grip harsher on to the skin of your waist. She begins to push you back down, eliciting a gasp as your sensitive core connects again with her leg. You squirm a little in the position, fighting ever so slightly against Natasha as she tries to drop your full weight on to her. "Just sit on my thigh," she drawls, hands guiding you down. "Just like that, there you go."
The position hikes your tight skirt all the up to your waist, completely exposing your cunt as it comes to rest against the bare skin of Natasha's thigh. You're pathetically wet against her, cum still dripping out your core from your previous orgasm. But if anything, Natasha only seems to enjoy the way you soak her skin, smirking up at you as her hands begin to direct you once again. Her movements force you to rock back and forth slowly, your slick coating the skin of her leg beneath you. The wave of pleasure that comes from the movement sends a moan tipping out your mouth, your head falling back as your clit throbs with each brush against Natasha's thigh.
"Does that feel good, baby?" the redhead beneath you husks, still guiding your movements. It takes all your focus to nod your head. "Mhm?" Natasha questions, her voice purely laced with amusement. "You're such a good girl. Just keep grinding on me, just like that."
You feel the rockstar's hands disengage from your waist but your movement continues, encouraged by her words and praise. You watch between fluttering eyelashes as Natasha reaches to take off her bra, tossing it aside and revealing her perfect tits to you. Then, you see as her hands moves to undo her shorts, opening each button before her fingers disappear beneath the waistband of the black denim.
You hold back a whine as you see her face contort, only imagining what her fingers may be doing under the material of those shorts. "God, you're making me so wet," the redhead breathes, reaching up to place a kiss on to your pouting lips. You release a whine into her, muffled by her tongue lapping over your own. "Such a pretty girl," Natasha mewls when she pulls away, one hand reaching up to caress your jaw. "So pretty just for me. Wanna see how wet I am for you?"
You feel yourself nodding as you look into her green eyes, turned even more on by the concept of Natasha getting off just by looking at you. The redhead removes her fingers from beneath her shorts before bringing them up to your face, letting you view the soaked digits momentarily before pressing them up to your lips. You take in her fingers welcomely, humming around them as you let the taste of her coat your tongue.
"Fuck, you're so hot," Natasha husks, sounding about as love-drunk as you felt sucking on her fingers. She lets you lap them up a moment longer before pulling them from your lips with a pop. Then, you watch as she dips them back below her shorts, moaning softly at the contact it makes on her hidden centre.
Your eyes feel almost transfixed on the hand concealed beneath the material of Natasha's black shorts. The only true indication of whatever her fingers are doing comes from the delicate hums and sighs that escape the redhead's lips. The sight alone is enough to make you grind your cunt harder against her thigh, desperately trying to ease the heat growing there.
The rockstar notices your attempts becoming more determined, fingers clutching at her shoulders as your own needy mewls drip from your tongue. "Are you gonna cum on my thigh baby?" she asks, smirking widely.
You grind faster against her, trying desperately to chase your high but it feels like it's never coming. "I can't," you whine, hopelessly rutting atop of her.
"You can," Natasha nods.
"Mm-hm," you hum, shaking your head. Your fingers grip harder into her skin, the feeling between your legs never quite reaching that peak you're seeking out.
"You can, baby," Natasha replies quickly, voice assertive. "Look, just like this." You feel her hands come to rest upon your ass, fingers gripping into the soft flesh before she begins to rock you once more. With her guidance, you follow a more structured pattern, your clit brushing perfectly against her thigh with each rock of your hips. "There you go," the redhead hums, watching your face screw up in pleasure at the newfound rhythm. Moans begin to cascade from your lips in desperate tones as each new thrust sends you closer to that edge. The way Natasha guides you sends perfect waves of pleasure through your entire body, your hands pressing into her shoulders to try ground yourself in the high. When you feel her fingers join in on the equation, your cries turn ever more lewd, her hand placed so that your clit brushes directly over her calloused tips each time you rut your hips.
"Come on baby girl," you hear Natasha husk, her face close to yours. "Cum for me. You can do it. Cum all over my thigh."
One more thrust sends you hurtling over the edge, screaming out as you feel a gush of warmth flooding onto Natasha's leg. Your arms wrap around her head, anchoring yourself in as you ride out your high, mewling choked moans into the redhead's ear. Natasha guides you through the orgasm once more, still slowly guiding your hips to an eventual stop. When you finally emerge from the crook of her neck, you're panting.
The rockstar admires the way your chest rises and falls, the green crystal still hanging around your neck, nestled in the valley of your breasts. "God, you're so fucking perfect," she husks, drinking in your figure. "I could get addicted to the way you look falling apart for me."
You don't say anything in response as you still try to calm yourself from the high, head feeling fuzzy as you look back at the redhead. She smirks widely as she watches you, utterly obsessed with the way you look sat on top of her, eyes glazed over in residual pleasure.
A single one of her fingers comes to swipe up some of the cum you've left slathered on her thigh, purposely brushing slightly over the top of your bruised clit just to watch you squirm a little before bringing her hand up to her own mouth. She practically laps up the stickiness coating her finger, humming lowly as your cum trickles down her throat. "God," she breathes, letting her finger fall. "I wish I had my strap so I could fuck that sweet little pussy of yours." You whine on top of her, still too inebriated to form a real response. Natasha only chuckles at your intoxication. "Would you like that, pretty girl? Like me to fuck you till you can't even think anymore?"
"Uh huh," you nod, already fantasying the image inside your head.
Natasha laughs again, tilting her head as she watches your face. "You're so cum-drunk right now I think you're already half way there. Isn't that right?" A low sound in the back of your throat is the only response, heightened when you feel Natasha's lips connect with your neck. She sucks as the soft flesh, glazing over the burn with her tongue. She stays there a moment, clearly leaving a mark on your skin that you have no idea how you'll cover up tomorrow. But quite frankly, you don't even care.
When Natasha pulls away, she notices how that glaze has left your eyes, your consciousness returning finally after your last climax. She smirks, eyeing you with that mischievous look as her face comes to rest near your cleavage, placing a chaste kiss to your sternum before looking back up. "You want me to empty that pretty head of yours some more?"
You're barely able to focus on her words as she lets her tongue circle around your nipple. In the end, you don't answer her question, simply whine as her teeth tease at the hardened bud. "Tasha-"
The nickname slips from your tongue almost too easily, your brain not even recognising it. Natasha, however, does, and she can't believe how amazing it sounds coming from your mouth. "Fuck," she whispers, coming face to face with you again. She looks into your eyes for a long moment before she begins to shift her body, turning yours with it. "Lie down for me, baby," she murmurs, twisting your body to lay down on the couch beneath you. "Just like that."
You let her manoeuvre you to the perfect position, arching slightly as the cold leather of the couch hits your back. Lying back, you watch as Natasha leans over you, placing a few quick kisses to your neck before travelling lower. When she reaches your waistline, her fingers work to unzip the skirt still clinging to your waist. She makes light work of undoing it before beginning to pull it down your legs, placing kisses on your warm flesh as she goes. When the article is tossed aside, the rockstar begins to unfasten the boots still tied to your feet. She removes them quickly, laying them aside and soon letting her own join them.
Then, you watch in awe as the redhead slowly slips her fingers into the waistband of her own shorts, almost making a show out of it as she slips the garment down. Shorts and underwear go at the same time as Natasha strips herself in front of you, smirking as she notices the way you stare. Your eyes never leave her as her body moves back towards the couch, coming to a rest above you as her knees straddle your waist. "You're so hot," you all but mumble, mesmerised by the sight in front of you.
Natasha simply chuckles lowly at your response. "Give me your hand," she says, reaching out towards your wrist. You let her take hold, watching intently as she guides you between her legs. She runs your fingers methodically through her folds, gasping quietly as the touch. She's soaked, slick coating your digits, probably residual from where she had been touching herself earlier. "You feel that? It's all for you, baby." Natasha hums as she guides your hand through her core. You can't help but let your own little noises slip, feeling just how wet she is beneath your touch. Your fingers curl at the ends, dipping into Natasha's centre before you pull them up to rub at her swollen clit. "Ah, fuck," the star moans, pinching her eyes closed. She lets you play with her a bit longer before she eventually pulls your hand away, letting it drop to your side. Instead, she reaches the hand she was using to guide you under your right thigh, squeezing into the flesh gently. "Lift your leg for me," she says, pulling upwards on your thigh.
You let her manoeuvre your leg, holding it up to the side while she adjusts her own body. You watch as one of her legs hooks over your waist, angling herself so that her core is directly above your own. When she sinks down to meet you, a lewd gasp sounds from your mouth, the new sensation electric against your skin. Natasha's cunt is wet against your own, accentuated by the cum that sill coats your sensitive folds.
"Oh my god," you breathe out, entirely in awe at the new feeling of the redhead against you. The star smirks down at you, letting your legs fall back into a relaxed position as she anchors herself to your hips with her hands. When she begins to move against you, the loud moans that escape you coat the entire room.
Her clit brushes beautifully against your own as Natasha rocks her hips back and forth, the noises of your combined wetness thick in the air. "Fuck, you feel so good," the redhead moans out, her own breath becoming shallow as she rolls against you. It doesn't mean that she lets her guard down entirely though, quickly noticing when your head lolls to the side and your eyes squeeze shut. "Eyes on me, beautiful," she directs, reaching out to grasp your face.
You let her turn your chin as you open your eyes back up, drinking in the sight in front of you. Natasha rocks back and forwards against you with a perfect rhythm, her tits bouncing with each new thrust. Natasha sees you watching and reaches for your hands, guiding them up to plump flesh of her chest. You squeeze roughly, savouring the delicate moans that spill from the rockstar's lips.
"God, you're so hot," the redhead murmurs between heavy breaths. "I just can't get enough of you. Maybe I'll just have to bring you along on tour with me, let you be my little groupie."
You moan loudly, not only from the way Natasha's cunt grinds over your swollen clit, but also at the teasing voice and notion of her words. Natasha smirks down at you. "You like that idea, huh?" she husks. "You wanna be my little groupie who I fuck like this after all my shows?"
You don't have the ability to form a response to her, merely putting all of your energy into chasing your combined high. Your back arches off the cold leather of the couch as you try your best to rock your hips against the rockstar's, listening to the sound of your wet cunts grinding desperately against one another. When a particular thrust bumps across your clit, a whine sounds low in the back of your throat. "Tasha-"
The nickname does wonders once again in Natasha's mind, sounding so sweet lacing your tongue. "Fuck," she murmurs, trying to keep up her pace. "I want you to say my name like that when you cum baby, okay?"
You nod weakly, chest heaving. "Good girl." Natasha bucks slightly as your clits brush over one another, her legs twitching by your sides. "Fuck."
The two of you continue to rock against one another, your moans harmonising together as you both climb closer to your climax. Your hands rest upon Natasha's full thighs, gripping for support as the pleasure rolls over you in waves. She clasps at your waist, feeling the thin layer of perspiration coating your skin.
"Fuck," you breathe out. "I think I'm gonna-"
"Cum for me," Natasha finishes, thrusting into you. You do as she says and let that coil loose in your stomach, letting your orgasm shred through you as you all but scream out in pleasure.
"Oh fuck, Tasha."
Her name dripping from your lips sends the redhead over the edge too, rutting against you as she cums hard. "Shit," she mumbles, riding her wave as the combination of your juices blends together and soaks both of your legs.
Both of your bodies tense, movements becoming sloppy as your highs hit. When nearly a minute later, you've both come down from the peak, Natasha slowly untwines your legs from one another. She flops down on the couch beside you, barely enough room for the two of you to lie next to another. For a while you two sit with the combined sounds of your own heavy breaths, both of your bare chests heaving in the warmth of the room.
"Oh my god," you manage to slip out, finally aware of how you've just had the best sex of your life. Nothing could ever compare to what Natasha had just done to you, no other partner ever even coming close to making you cum that hard.
Natasha seeks amusement in your blown out state, clearly enjoying the revelation painted on your face. She rolls her head towards you, her signature smirk making one final appearance. "I told you, you wouldn't regret coming back stage with me."
Your head turns towards her, meeting her widened eyes still dark with lust. You almost want to tell her she's wrong, that all your avoiding earlier had been the right path you go down, but you know it's all bullshit. She was right, there wasn't a single ounce of regret in your bones.
Natasha smiles at your clear agreeance, almost smug in the way she licks her lips. She props herself up on to one arm, leaning over you with those dark emerald eyes. Her fingers come to find the crystal hanging around your neck, rolling the stone between her fingertips as she smiles deeply. Then, she turns back to you, looking as sly as she first had back in that bathroom stall. "Now," she drawls. "About that groupie thing..."
#natasha romanoff#rockstar natasha romanoff#rockstar nat#natasha romanoff smut#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff x you#natasha romanoff fic#band au#✧yana writes
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when in vegas ~ lando norris
instagram au
synopsis: anything can happen when lando and y/n are left alone while in vegas.
a/n: for the sake of the story, we'll pretend Lando's crash never happened. thank youuuu
my masterlist
♡♡♡♡♡
liked by yourusername, alex_albon and 3,291,574 others
landonorris Vegas baby
tagged: yourusername
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yourusername i love traveling with you <3
landonorris i love you 🫶🏻
mclaren Let's go!🧡
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mclaren also, please, BEHAVE - PR team
landonorris we'll try
yourusername i'll keep him under control
landonorris you'll be too busy to think about that 😈😈😈😈
mclaren LANDO
alex_albon please be good
landonorris not making any promises
yourusername sorry alex 🫣
oscarpiastri ...my room is next to yours...
yourusername 🫣🫣🫣
landonorris i suggest earplugs 🤭
oscarpiastri ...
charles_leclerc someone should watch over you two
yourusername not you, that's for sure
charles_leclerc why not?
landonorris you're worse than we are
charles_leclerc ...true
adam_norris_pure_electric good luck, my boy!!
landonorris thanks dad ❤️
ciscanorris take care of him yourusername
yourusername i will!!! ❤️
user1 you just know they are going to be WILD
user2 I cannot wait for the content abut these two
user3 THE COMMENTS
user4 they’re spending his birthday in Vegas together i’m not well 😭😭😭
user3 my man is getting LUCKY
maxfewtrell you seem to have lost my invite. again
landonorris nah, i just didn't want you here
yourusername babe, be nice please
maxfewtrell this is him being nice.. some friend you are
landonorris ;)
user5 max and lando bickering like siblings will forever be my favorite thing in the world
user6 NOT MCLAREN LITERALLY SCOLDING HIM HAHAHA
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yourusername being by your side and watching you do what you love the most has been my greatest accomplishment. i am so proud of everything that you do and i'm forever thankful that you chose me to be a part of your journey. happy 24th birthday baby, i love you so much and i cannot wait to see what the future holds for us ❤️
tagged: landonorris
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landonorris i wouldn't even think about doing life with anybody else. i love you so much 😩❤️
yourusername ❤️❤️
landonorris can’t wait to party with you tonight 😈
yourusername BEHAVE
landonorris 😈no
mclaren Happy birthday, Lando! We are proud of everything you do and we hope to continue being your family for many more years to come. Cheers! 🧡🧡
landonorris thank you 🧡
oscarpiastri happy birthday, mate. take it easy tonight
landonorris never 😈
oscarpiastri 🥲
yourusername i’ll keep him under control, don’t worry
landonorris you’ll be too busy to do that 😈😈
oscarpiastri THERE ARE CHILDREN ON THIS APP
georgerussell63 happy birthday, mate! 🥳 can’t wait to crush you on the track
landonorris thanks mate. you wish you had my pace
georgerussell63 your ego is through the roof
yourusername so is yours
user1 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR FAVORITE DRIVER 🧡🧡🧡🧡 WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH
user2 he’s all grown up 🥹🥹
user3 i remember when he was just a little guy starting out in F1 and now look at him 😭😭😭😭
user4 he’s so fine and talented and just UGH SO PERFECT 😩😩😩 happy birthday king 🥳🥳
user5 i love their relationship so much ❤️❤️ she keeps him grounded and he’s so much happier now
maxverstappen1 happy birthday 🎉 can’t wait to get drunk tonight
landonorris 😈😈😈😈
yourusername oh Jesus
kellypiquet we’re in for a very long night
charles_leclerc i heard there’s a party?
landonorris you’re not invited
charles_leclerc :(
yourusername don’t listen to him, you’re invited and we’d love it if you came 😊
landonorris we would?
yourusername shut up
charles_leclerc yay!! 🥳🥳
mclaren if someone could please keep an eye on them, we would really appreciate it - PR team
carlossainz55 consider it done
landonorris we’re not children, you know
mclaren you certainly act like children
yourusername they’re kinda right, you know…
landonorris shh
maxfewtrell happy birthday mate. looks like you made it another year
landonorris thanks. you know you can't get rid of me
maxfewtrell no matter how hard i try
liked by f1wags, yoursister and 28,473 others
formula1gossip MARRIAGE ALERT⁉️⁉️ Reports are saying that Lando Norris and long-time girlfriend Y/N Y/L/N have tied the knot last night during his birthday bash in Las Vegas? What do you guys think? 👀
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user1 tbh i hope it's true, they're amazing together😩
user2 i saw yoursister in the likes 👀👀👀👀
user3 yoursister GIRL WHAT DO YOU KNOW🫣
yoursister i know nothing
user3 SUCH A LIAR HAHAHA I LOVE IT🥲
mclaren sigh...🥲
user5 BAHAHAHAHAHAHA THIS IS AMAZING
user6 this is basically the confirmation we needed
user7 i suddenly understand why everyone keeps saying they are the biggest PR nightmare 😭😭
user8 this is the most Lando thing ever
user5 for real, like this seems the kind of wedding Lando would have
user4 i can just imagine the earful Cisca is probably giving the both of them for doing this 😭😭😭
user2 she is so gonna tear them a new one hahahaha
liked by georgerussell63, ciscanorris and 4,291,857 others
yourusername & landonorris we got married last night. we don't remember much, but it was the best decision we have ever made. grateful to be starting this journey together ❤️
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mclaren Congratulations!!🧡
landonorris thanks admin 😊
yourusername also, we're sorry for the nightmare we've caused the PR department 🫢
mclaren you're cute, we'll let this one slide - PR team
georgerussell63 wild night, but happy for you guys ❤️
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maxverstappen1 i don't even remember this happening
yourusername you were drunker than everyone, you couldn't even remember your name 😂
maxverstappen1 that's not true 😠
kellypiquet you danced naked in front of the wedding venue singing "Viva Las Vegas"
alex_albon for 20 minutes straight
landonorris not the sight I wanted to remember from that night
georgerussell63 me too
alex_albon me 3
charles_leclerc me 4
carlossainz55 me 5
maxverstappen1 OK I GET IT
ciscanorris my children ❤️ you're lucky i love you
yourusername we're sorry ❤️❤️ we promise to have a proper wedding when we get back
landonorris anything for the Mrs.
yourusername 🤭OH
oscarpiastri congrats guys, thanks for taking it easy on me last night with the noise 🥳
landonorris we were too drunk
yourusername you got off easy, pastry
oscarpiastri a win is still a win
user not both of them bullying poor oscar 😭😭
alex_albon never thought you would be the first one of us to get married
yourusername we didn’t either
landonorris what can i say, i love surprising people
maxfewtrell you guys getting married was definitely not on my bucket list for the year
yourusername but you loved it nonetheless
maxfewtrell i'm just grateful you got him to settle down
landonorris she is something else
yourusername 🤭
user1 YAYAYAYAYAAY 😩😩😩
user2 MY FAVORITE COUPLE GOT MARRIED 😭😭
user3 they are so precious 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️
user4 CONGRATS ❤️❤️❤️
user5 our favorite WAG is officially HERE TO STAY ❤️❤️
yoursister mom is mad you got married without us
yourusername i’m sorry :((
landonorris kinda my fault, but don’t worry. we’ll have a proper wedding soon!!
yourmother you better.
yourusername MOM, be nice to your son-in-law
yourmother don’t push it, young lady
landonorris yes ma’am 🫡🫡
francisca.cgomes a truly wonderful night 🥳 CONGRATULATIONS DARLINGS!!!❤️❤️❤️
yourusername we love you !!! ❤️
lilymhe i’m sorry i couldn’t be there, but i’m really happy for you guys !! ❤️
yourusername don’t worry, you’ll come to our other wedding ❤️
user6 imagine saying OTHER WEDDING 😩😩
user7 i cannot wait to see their wedding 😭😭❤️
liked by yourusername, landonorris and 381,573 others
mclaren Mr. and Mrs. Norris everyone! Even though their wedding came as a surprise to us as well, we could never be mad at these two! 🧡
tagged: yourusername and landonorris
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yourusername we love you guys !! 🧡🧡
landonorris thanks for the papaya post-wedding cake
mclaren was it delicious?
yourusername it was 🤩
user1 not McLaren posting them 😭😭
user2 they are just one big happy family🥹🥹
user3 MY PARENTS😩❤️❤️
charles_leclerc you're so milking this wedding
landonorris fame is fame
yourusername excuse me? 😠
charles_leclerc great job making her mad from day 2
landonorris you know i didn't mean it like that babe !!
yourusername you're treading on thin ice, mister
georgerussell63 how did y/n, the down-to-earth one, agree to this?
yourusername vodka might have been involved in my decision making process 🤐
landonorris and my good looks also played a part
georgerussell63 good to know that's all it takes
carmenmmundt don't get any ideas
maxfewtrell where is my slice of cake?
landonorris lost in the mail
maxfewtrell ...
yourusername don't worry max, i saved you a slice
landonorris i thought that was extra for me :((
maxfewtrell get your head out of your arse for once, mate
mclaren we'll get you another cake landonorris
user4 the way he has the McLaren staff wrapped around his little finger amazes me 🫣
user5 I LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND😭😭😭😭😭
liked by pietrapilao, mclaren and 8,392,817 others
yourusername & landonorris due to popular demand, we present to you, again, Mr. and Mrs. Norris
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mclaren Congratulations guys!🧡🧡
liked by yourusername and landonorris
ciscanorris beautiful wedding, we love you so much❤️❤️❤️
yourusername we love you guys too !!!! thank you for making our day special🫶🏻🫶🏻
maxfewtrell great wedding, glad to see i was invited to this one at least
landonorris don’t be condescending
yourusername sorry maxie :)) you know we love you
charles_leclerc beautiful wedding, well done y/n 👏
yourusername thank you charles <3
landonorris i helped too...
charles_leclerc sure you did
carlossainz55 very beautiful ceremony, i loved the cake particularly 🫣
landonorris you thought bringing a Ferrari-themed wedding cake to my wedding was a good idea?
yourusername i thought it was delicious
carlossainz55 i rest my case
user1 SHE WAS SO BEAUTIFUL I’M SOBBING 😭😭😭😭🥹😭🥹🥹🥹
user2 seeing him so happy makes me want to cry 😭❤️❤️❤️
zbrownceo Congratulations to my boy Lando, I hope you and Y/N have a wonderful life together!🧡
landonorris thank you zak 🧡🧡
yourusername we appreciate everything you’ve done for us Zak!!🧡
zbrownceo Thank you for taking care of our boy 🧡
user3 ZAK CALLING LANDO “HIS BOY” 😭😭
user4 YOUR HONOR, you don’t understand how in love i am with them 🥹🥹🥹
maxverstappen1 thankfully i remember this wedding
yourusername thank you for making an effort max
landonorris surprising on all fronts
francisca.cgomes OMG YOU LOOKED SO GOOD 😭😭😭 so grateful to have been by your side on your special day ❤️❤️
yourusername OH MY LOVE ❤️❤️❤️ thank you for everything you did for me ❤️❤️❤️
lilymhe truly such a magical night ❤️❤️ so happy for you guys
yourusername thank you lils ❤️❤️
alex_albon i still can't believe you're married
landonorris bro, we've had 2 weddings, you better start believing
yourusername stop living in denial, alex
yoursister ❤️❤️❤️ if he hurts you, i will fight him
yourusername he won't. if he does, i'll fight him myself
landonorris ...so much violence...
user5 i can now die happy❤️
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#imagines#oneshots#fanfiction#one shot#formula 1#formula one#f1 x you#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 smau#mclaren f1#ln4#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x you#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris smau#lando norris fluff#lando norris blurb#lando norris drabble#lando norris one shot#lando norris f1#ln4 fluff#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader#mclaren
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hi hi hi!!! i know you’re working on the bau sleepover buttttt i was wondering if you could write a aaron hotchner x reader fic where like what happened to garcia, reader gets shot and she’s in hospital and they don’t know if she gonna be okay and stuff. her and hotch have this mutual pining for each other and when she gets shot he kinda spirals. after being released, hotch takes her to her apartment and stays with her until they catch him and stuff. i know this is really long, thank you!!!
Some Profiler You Are - A.H
a/n: hi hi hi thank you so so sooo much for requesting <3 i kind of took this a more fluffy route and focused more on the recovery so let me know if you like it :)
masterlist
‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧
pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
warnings: reader was shot, comfort, angst like a teensy bit, fluff, changing of bandages, kinda shitty ending per usual
wc: 2k
"Do you want to sit down?"
No, you really didn't. After spending the last six hours in a state of near-motionlessness, sprawled across various surfaces, the last thing you wanted was to do was sit down. Your legs had taken on the consistency of overcooked noodles, so you made the grave mistake of misreading the quiet of the house as Hotch's absence, a mistake punctuated by the garage door's sudden rumble.
You should have known better than to assume he would leave you alone for even a second. Now, you were face to face, his scrutinizing eyes boring into yours, arms crossed across his wide chest. He was in a casual zip-up--a rarity that you never imagined him wearing before practically moving in with him. But you really did enjoy this relaxed side of him, he wore it exceptionally well.
Taking work off was a concept you knew was foreign him, yet here he was, not at his desk, hovering over you like a concerned parent. The entire office, yourself included, gaped at him as if he had sprouted a different head when he told them. His next move was even crazier--he insisted you stay with him while you recovered.
You protested. A lot. Shocker. But he wouldn't take no for an answer. Again, Shocker.
You winced as you stepped forward, your hands automatically gravitating to the bandage that spanned around your thigh.
"You can't baby me forever, Hotch," you murmured, though your conviction wavered under the dull throb in your leg.
You braced yourself against the counter, trying to mask the discomfort you were sure was etched all over your face.
Filling the shoes of the communications liaison for the FBI post-JJ's shift to profiling, you signed up for a life of managing the media narrative, being the conduit between local and federal levels, and choosing the cases. You provided assistance in ways that aren't glaringly obvious.
What you didn't sign up for is getting shot.
The movies, the stories, even the firsthand accounts from coworkers--none of it could brace you for the raw, blistering pain of a gunshot wound. It fucking hurt. And the recovery? It was a different kind of torture, and you'd even argue that it was worse.
"It's not babying, it's common sense," Hotch countered.
He was frustrated. You had that effect. He stepped closer, his hand dragging down his face. "You took a bullet. It's still in your leg. It's perfectly rational for me to want to prevent any unnecessary strain on you."
"Feels dramatic," you shrugged, but he was right, like always.
Your grip on the counter tightened, knuckles growing white as you struggled to keep the pain under wraps. His brows lifted in response.
"I'm fine, really, Hotch. I hate this. You're probably dying to get back to work--don't let me be the reason you don't. Despite popular belief, I'm quite capable of fending for myself."
"I'm aware," he said, his attention briefly shifting to your bandaged leg. You were wearing shorts, a choice that felt less than appropriate, but practicality trumped formality under these circumstances. "Work will survive without me. I'm not sure I can say the same about you."
Your laughter was short-lived, swiftly turning into a stifled grimace as your footing slipped. Hotch's reflexes were quick, his hands steadying you--one against your ribs, the other just shy above the hem of your shorts.
"Point in case."
"Poking fun at a wounded woman? Shame on you, Hotch," you chided, your lower lip jutting out in a pout. His eyes darted to it momentarily.
He didn't move, his hands staying put, stirring a gentle, jelly-like feeling inside of you.
This was an odd sort of comfort, the kind you're not supposed to feel with your boss. You shouldn't be talking to him like this, shouldn't be in his kitchen, and certainly, his hands shouldn't be where they were. But the ache in your heart didn't seem to care about shoulds and shouldn'ts.
Hotch's presence was hard to ignore. He was reducing the space with every word.
"You're hardly acting like a wounded woman," he pointed out. "You should be in bed."
You tilted your head, sliding onto the barstool to carve some much-needed space between you. The scent of his cologne was intoxicating, and you needed distance to gather your wits before you did something that HR would definitely not look kindly upon.
The action was a mistake, a fact that became painfully clear as the feeling of something stabbing into your leg took hold. You tried to muster a smile, but you were sure it came across as a snarl. The last thing you wanted was to inflate Hotch's ego by showing that maybe, just maybe, he was right.
"Shit."
You followed his line of sight, landing on the fresh red seeping through the bandage and staining your shorts. Oh. That's not great. Don't think you can fool him with this one.
Hotch didn't hesitate, his response outpacing your own surge of panic, which was incredibly fast, because you were panicking and frankly not that great with blood. His hands were on your skin, easing the hem of your shorts upward to lay bare the wound you had stupidly underestimated.
You're never going on a date again.
I mean, the only reason you even went was to get your boss of your mind. Since the first day, you'd been hopelessly drawn to him--how could you not be?
But there are a couple factors to consider.
Firstly, he was your boss, and the whole notion of a coercive relationship dynamic seemed problematic.
Secondly, there's the age difference; it had never been an issue for you--perhaps a reflection of your daddy issues--but you knew it would raise some eyebrows.
And thirdly, he didn't even like you back. That was, of course, the biggest issue. If not for this, the other concerns could definitely be overlooked.
Before this whole incident, he barely acknowledged you beyond was professionally required of him. You knew you hadn't been part of the team long enough to bond--though you weren't sure Hotch did bond in the usual sense, but the point was made.
You were fairly sure you hadn't made much of an impression on him.
"Hold still." That was a tall order, considering it hurt more than a mother fucker.
You found yourself glaring at him--not that he was to blame, but you needed to anchor your frustration on something, or someone. Unknowingly, your grip had latched on the fabric of his zip-up, but he seemed unfazed. He grabbed a clean cloth from the drawer, pressing it against the wound, only furthering the colorful vocabulary going on in your head.
"Fuck, Hotch."
You didn't make a habit of cursing in front of your superior, but the sharp sting forced tears to the brink, your body going rigid as you snapped your eyes shut.
His other hand found its way to your uninjured thigh, giving it a firm squeeze--a clear attempt to divert your attention. It worked for a second. "I'm sorry, just keep this pressed here, okay?"
He motioned toward the cloth, and you complied, too drained to consider otherwise. Your brows knitted, and you bit into your lip until you tasted something metallicy, your mind desperately racing trying to think of anything other than the blood flowing freely from your thigh.
"Where are you going?" You knew how panicked you sounded as he turned away, stepping towards a cabinet.
He rummaged briefly before holding up a first aid kit. Catching the brief alarm in your face, he quickly returned to your side, his hand finding the crook of your neck as you instinctively clutched at his shirt once again.
"If you dare say I told you so, I swear, Hotch, fists will fly," you ground out through clenched teeth.
He laughed, and now that did distract you, your eyes zeroing in on his perfect teeth. It was a rare display, and it only served to aggravate you further. Of course he had perfect teeth.
"I didn't say anything."
"I could feel you thinking it," you said, your voice rough as you willed the moisture in your eyes not to fall. "Maybe I should be a profiler."
"Definitely."
"Sarcasm doesn't suit you." You were lying. Everything suited him. He stepped back, and you reluctantly peered at the wound, only to find a neatly sutured leg. "Where did you learn to do that?"
"In this job, you learn to be handy with more than just a gun.”
You’d love to know what else he’s handy with.
He pulled your leg up to rest on his as he took a seat on the opposite stool.
Your body was buzzing, from the closeness, from his hands on you, and also from the pain, but you were trying to ignore that. He grabs a new bandage from the counter, hands trailing up your thigh so slowly you thought you might pass out. He was so gentle. There was no other word for it.
"How's it feel?"
You paused. Eyes fully locked on his precise movements as he wrapped you up. You were closer than you realized, practically sharing the same breath.
"Fine."
"Yeah?"
You nodded, and he finished up his task, his hand lightly patting your thigh to show he was done. You didn't move your leg from his lap, and he didn't move his hand.
"I couldn't sleep for three days."
"What?" Your brows were furrowed, your focus sharpening on his face as the words left his lips.
"When I found out you had been shot." He cleared his throat, his thumb making gentle rotations on your calf. "I couldn't close my eyes without seeing red for days. I wanted to kill the son of a bitch who did that to you. I almost did."
You weren't sure how to process this information, or why he was telling you. "You and me both."
"I'm serious." And you could tell he was, his eyes narrowing slightly as his hand firmly encircled around your leg. You felt a lump in your throat form as heat rose from your neck to your ears. "Do you know what that was like? I felt like my heart stopped."
"Why?"
"Why?" It was more a scoff than a word. He blew out a breath, his fingers pinching into the space between his eyebrows. "Is it not obvious?"
Your heart was beating a lot faster. You wanted to say something, anything but your throat was dry and every time you opened your mouth you found it snapping shut.
Hotch's expression softened ever so slightly, his voice low and bouncing off the walls as he spoke. "Because I'm in love with you."
Your breath stalled, as if every ounce of oxygen had been vacuumed from your lungs. The air felt heavy, almost tangible.
You stared at him, heart skipping a beat.
"That's not funny," you said. It wasn't. You weren't in the mood for jokes, and your brain couldn't comprehend he might be telling the truth. "You...you don't even notice me."
He shook his head. "I notice everything about you." His thumb stilled on your calf. "I'm your boss," he said, as if that explained everything. "There are rules, protocols. I couldn't...I still shouldn't..."
The confession stripped the room of its warmth, leaving a raw aching silence in its wake. You searched his face.
"When you got shot," he continued, "I realized that if I lost you, I'd regret not telling you how I feel for the rest of my life."
"Hotch, I..."
He leaned closer, causing your words to catch in your throat. His hand moved from your leg to your face. You were speechless, the world narrowing down to the man in front of you, to his eyes, the warmth of his hands.
"Say something."
"Are you kidding me?" Your heart was pounding like it was trying to escape from your chest. "I've been in love with you since I started. How could you not see that?"
He looked taken aback, as if your words were the last thing he expected. "Well—,"
But you didn't let him finish. "Some profiler you are."
You were practically climbing into his lap, hands framing his face, pulling your lips to his.
He chuckled against your lips, the sound vibrating through you. "Easy," he murmured, "don't make me fix that bandage again."
You laugh, the sound muffled by his mouth. He tasted like cinnamon and coffee. "Shut up, Hotch."
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna
#aaron hotchner x reader#Aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner x fem reader#Aaron hotchner#Hotch#criminal minds fic#Aaron hotchner fic#criminal minds#Thomas Gibson
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late at night (c.s)
master list
warnings: none!
preview: you and the triplets decided to go rent out a cabin leaving the Los Angeles lifestyle for a little bit to take a breather. late at night, you were awaken by a sleepless Chris knocking on your door.
a/n: likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! - L 🤍
you're in your room, packing your luggage as you talk on the phone, "how long are we staying there again?" you speak up, looking through your drawers. it was way too early in the morning. your mind needed some refreshing. "till Sunday." Nick replies shortly. he was also packing his things for the two day get away. you and the triplets decided to take this trip up the mountains to get peace and quiet. a change of scenery is always good. “is Matt and Chris ready?” you ask folding a few shirts. Nick scoffs, “Matt is still sleeping.” you look at the camera to face him. Nick looks back at you and freezes, “are you serious? how about Chris?” you ask with a straight face.
“let me see.” he says putting down what he had in his hands, walking towards his bedroom door. he opens it and shouts, “Chris!” you stare at the phone waiting for a response. “yeah?” Chris shouts back. “what are you doing?” Nick asks leaning against his door. Chris eventually walks into the room, “I just finished packing.” he says. he looks at the camera and sees you, causing him to smile a bit, “good morning Y/n.” he greets. “can you wake up Matt? I don’t want to be the one to drive up the mountain.” you ask with the same straight face, making Chris’s smile fade, “no good morning back?” he asks. Nick rolls his eyes before interrupting, “Chris, go do what she asked.” he pushes the younger brother out the door, shutting it.
“you and him need to get a license.” you let out, earning a scoff from him, “trust me, you don’t want me behind the wheel. especially if Matt and Chris are the passengers.” you laugh a bit shaking your head. you’ve witnessed his driving before, it’s not that he was terrible at it. he just stresses out too much. as you two finish packing, Chris knocks on Nick’s door before entering, “Matt’s getting ready now.” he says. “is he packed already?” Nick asks. “yeah. I guess he packed last night.” he responds getting on his phone. “that’s probably why he overslept.” you join in. Chris looks at you, “I still didn’t get a proper good morning.” he mutters. you ignore him, “okay Nick i’ll see you in a bit. I’ll stop by the store for a few items. just text me in the group chat.” Nick nods, as Chris sighs dramatically, “so now i’m being ignored?” he adds on making you laugh a bit.
“text in the group chat as well Chris. also, remind Matt to attach the snow chains onto the tires.” you state picking up your phone. “okay I will.” Nick guarantees you. you both say good bye and you start to carry your luggage.
meanwhile, the triplets start to pack the car, waiting for you to arrive. Chris texts you what he wants, including what his brothers want since the two were busy doing what you said earlier, attaching the snow chains.
Y/n
‘be there soon’
you text Chris causing him to grin.
Chris
‘I hope you’re in a nicer mood when I see you 😄’
Y/n
‘we’ll see’
after a bit, you arrived at their house, or as Chris states out dramatically, “finally! you took forever.” you place the bags on the counter looking at him, “maybe because someone, as in you, requested too many items.” you let out, handing him the bag with his requests. he takes it and smiles, “thank you.” you shake your head a bit, smiling slightly at his gratitude, “you’re welcome.”
your attention soon lands on Matt, “are you set to drive?” you ask. Matt nods, “yeah let’s go.” he responds. you all pile into the car with you sat in the back with Nick and Chris in the passenger seat. you were all now heading to the anticipated place, a cozy cabin that you all decided to split money on. the car ride was only 2 hours long. Nick knocked out during the whole ride, Matt was focused on the road, and you were resting your head on your fist, staring out the window. you admired the change of scenery. your thoughts were soon interrupted by Chris turning up his music. you lift your head to look at him. he was singing along loudly, “Chris! turn it down!” Matt shouts.
you laugh while Chris turns the music up louder. Nick gets woken up, “seriously?” he mumbles tiredly. “look, we’re here!” Chris says excitedly, pointing at the cabin. Matt parks the car as you all look at the building. it was perfect. you put on your beanie and head out the car with everyone else. the four of you carry everything out the car and head inside. Nick bends down and lifts the welcome mat, revealing a silver key. he picks it up and unlocks the door. as soon as everyone shuffled inside, you guys were instantly hit with a comforting scent. you guys look around and you couldn’t help but eye the fireplace. you were excited for this weekend. “let’s look at the rooms.” Matt suggests, walking towards the hallway. there was exactly four rooms.
you all pick out rooms and you guys settle in. Nick sits on your bed and looks around, “what is the plan for today?” he asks with a smile. you sit next to him, “I thought we were snowboarding?” you ask. Nick looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “do you think I know how?” he asks making you giggle, “how hard could it be?” you state.
you guys eventually did go snowboarding, “okay maybe I was quick to assume.” you say looking at Nick as you both were laying in the snow with visible irritation on his face. “I told you!” he lets out, causing you to laugh. “are you guys okay?” Chris asks lifting his goggles up. you look at him, “a little sore.” you respond. he smiles and puts his hand out. you look at his hand before grabbing it. he pulls you up. “okay help me now!” Nick shouts. you and Chris burst put into laughter.
when you guys head back to the cabin, you went straight to take a shower. your body was aching from all the tumbling you did also, from the tumbling Nick did into you. later on, you guys had pizza for dinner and you all ended up going to bed early. you were definitely drained from today, waking up early and absolutely failing at snowboarding. you didn’t hesitate to drift off to sleep.
suddenly, you were woken up by a knock on your door. you rub your eyes and get up wondering who it could be. you look at the clock on the bedside table and groan quietly. it was the middle of the night. you open the door and see Chris. you could tell from the look on his face that something was up, “what’s wrong?” you whisper tiredly. he looks at you and whispers back, “can I stay with you?” he asks catching you off guard. “what? why?” you ask confused because he usually goes to Matt. “please?” he adds on. you rub your forehead and sigh. you open the door wider, letting him in. he walks in and immediately lays in your bed. you shut the door and turn around, standing still.
you watch as Chris snuggles into your blanket, “why do you want to be in here?” you ask. “I had a bad dream.” he whispers.“then why didn’t you go to Matt or Nick?” you ask walking closer to the bed. he shuts his eyes, “I didn’t want to.” he responds. you shake your head a bit and eventually lay next to him. you lay on your hand facing him. Chris opens his eyes and looks at you. “do you want to tell me what happened in your dream?” you whisper. he just stays quiet as he continues to stare at you. “come on. you disturbed my sleep.” you add on. he shakes his head, “I don’t want to talk about it.” he says.
you sigh, “okay, try to get some more sleep then.” you say turning around. you lay on the opposite side as you look ahead of you. you then feel Chris’ get closer to you, making you turn around to face him. you both were looking at each other with a small distance in between. “I can’t sleep.” he whispers. “why not?” you ask with a slight groan. it was too late at night for this. you now understand why Matt wakes up grumpy. you analyze his face and still see the same look from earlier. you move the blanket and open your arms, indicating him to ‘come here’. he breaks the distance and lays his face in the crook of your neck.
you wrap your arms around him with one hand playing with his hair softly. Chris eventually relaxes in your arms. “Y/n?” he whispers with his eyes shut. “yes?” you respond. he let’s out a breath, “can we always be like this?” he asks with an unfamiliar tone. you pull away slightly to look at him but he hides his face. “Chris?” you say trying to move him so you could see his expression. “what’s wrong?” you ask with slight concern. as soon as your eyes met with his, you couldn’t help but notice tears roll down his cheeks. you widen your eyes, you’ve never seen him cry before, “Chris talk to me.” you add on.
“I feel like an idiot.” he says sitting up, causing you to sit up as well. you both sit there as you lift your hand to wipe his tears away. “tell me.” you whisper. his breath was shaky, “the dream I had…” he starts off but he shakes his head, “it’s stupid.” you shake your head, “Chris it’s okay just tell me.” you reassure him. he lets out a breath, “in the dream I told you how I felt about you and you didn’t feel the same way back. you ended up getting with someone else.” you sit there confused, “why would that bother you?” you ask. he shakes his head, “forget it.” you place your hand on his knee repeating the question, “why would that bother you?”
“this whole time i’ve felt this feeling. a strong feeling that i’ve tried to shake off. you know how I am, I don’t just feel these type of things. when you’re around, I feel this sudden urge of wanting to impress you or trying to get you to only look at me when i’m with my brothers.” he confesses making you sit there frozen. “when I had that dream, I woke up with my heart racing. that’s why I came here, to you. I don’t want it to be too late when it comes to me telling you how I feel.” he continues. “that’s why I asked if we could always be like this. it felt right to me.” he says talking about you both being in each other’s embrace.
Y/n’s POV
it was silent for a bit. I stared at him, continuing to analyze his face. I knew he was genuine about these feelings. looking back at it, I now realize his efforts. him coming to me now made me feel a knot in my stomach. deep down I did feel the same way, I just didn’t know if he felt it. Chris never acted this way. he’s never had a girlfriend or expressed his feelings to any girl utmost. so him telling me all of this left me speechless.
End of Y/n’s POV
he looks at you and waits for a response but nothing could come out of your mouth. Chris sighs, “i’m sorry if this was too much.” he moves about to get up but you grab his hand. you lay down pulling him back to how you both were before, with his face in the crook of your neck. “of course we can.” you whisper. he looks up at you with his mouth agape, “really?” he asks. you look at him and smile a bit, “yes really.” you reassure him. his eyes kept on you filled with admiration. you both smile and continue to be in each other’s arms. drifting off to sleep.
the next morning, you and Chris were on the sofa drinking hot chocolate. the fire place was lit and you both were under a shared blanket. you both talked about last night and how you both wanted to start off slow. as in not putting any labels on yet. he wanted to properly take you out first. you both agreed that when you both get back to LA that he would try for his license. you took his word for it. you sip your cocoa as he giggles a bit. you look at him with a raised eyebrow, “what you laughing at?” he smiles, “there’s something on your lip.” he says getting closer, leaving a small kiss on your lips.
“there we go.” he says licking his lips. “just whipped cream.” you sit there looking at him with pure shock. “what happened to slow and steady?” you ask. “I was just taking off the stuff from your lips.” he says with a sheepish smile. you put down your cocoa and pull him in for a proper kiss. he does the same and kisses back, resting his hands on your face. when you both pull away slowly, Chris speaks up, “I just had to kiss you. i’ve been waiting you know.” he whispers making you laugh softly. “okay but still. slow and steady.” you add on. he nods a bit, “it’s just kissing.” he says reattaching his lips onto yours.
a/n: yeah i don’t know how i feel about this but, hope you enjoyed. LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED. - L 🤍
tag list (comment to be added)
@jnkvivi @fuckshitslover @nickgetsmewetter @mwahsturns @jetaimevous @sturniolo-fann @etvar12 @hxnnah24
#Spotify#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#nick sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#christopher sturniolo x you#christopher sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#christopher sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo smut#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo imagine#sturniolo triplets imagines#sturniolo triplets x reader#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo edit#matthew sturniolo x reader#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo smut
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Foxes II
Jenni Hermoso x Child!Reader
Summary: You draw Jenni
One of Jenni's favourite things is a slow day off after a match. She doesn't have to go out. She doesn't have to run or kick a ball no matter how much she loves it.
She can just sit, stretched out on the sofa, typing away at her laptop. You sit squished between her and the back of the sofa, down by her legs where you can rub your fingers on her fuzzy pyjama bottoms.
They match yours and you like that.
They're fluffy and that feels good under your fingers.
Jenni looks down at you fondly. She hadn't gotten you dressed today, content to let you just chill for the day in your favourite pyjamas.
You have major bedhead too but you don't really like the feeling of the hairbrush so Jenni's glad that she had the foresight to braid up your hair last night so it's not a tangled mess and she can go without dragging a brush through it today.
"What do you want for lunch today, Osita?"
You look up at her, brows furrowed in confusion. "Panini," You say.
That's your go-to when Jenni orders in. There's a café nearby that delivers and you've been obsessed with the paninis since you first went in. The workers just adore you there and whenever you go, you come out with a perfect panini and a new fox sticker to add to your collection.
"Mhm," Jenni says," Your normal?"
You nod. Your fox ear headband slips briefly over your eyes and you push it back so you can see Jenni.
"Alright, Osita. Let me up so I can call."
You pout a little when she asks that because she's comfortable and you just want to lay on Mami forever. But you let her up anyway because your normal panini is the best panini in the world and it's the only thing you want to eat today.
You watch Mami go to order the food and you huff, moving to the floor. Your sketchpad and pencils lay there abandoned and you pick them up. Usually, you enjoy drawing the same fox over and over again but today you do something different.
Your pencil scrawls over the paper until a Mami fox and a baby fox appear on your page. You tear it out of your book, slamming your eyes shut at the horrific sound it makes.
It bounces in your ears as you wander over to Mami. She's still on the phone because she's well known at the café and the elderly couple that run it like to talk.
You tug on her pyjama bottoms and she looks down.
"One second...Osita, is something wrong? What's up?"
You hand here your drawing. "Us," You grunt before turning on your heels to return to the sofa where some of your fox toys wait for you.
Jenni watches you go, returning to her conversation before looking down at the picture you've given her. You don't like sharing your work, mainly because after the third time of the same picture, people get bored.
The picture you've drawn this time is different.
It's still clearly of foxes because Jenni knows you'd rather do nothing than draw anything other than a fox. There's a big fox sitting down with a little baby fox next to it. It's a line drawing and not coloured in at all which is a little different than normal but Jenni thinks is sweet.
Your spelling is coming along well though because you've scrawled 'Mami' and 'Me' under each of them so Jenni knows who they are.
She doesn't want to fold up this picture because it's special so she gently tucks it between the pages of a magazine.
The picture circles through Jenni's mind through the next few weeks until she decides on a plan one random evening as you sleep on her chest like you used to do as a baby.
It's a bit spur of the moment but once it's done Jenni can't help but think it's perfect.
"Mami," You say as your babysitter leaves," You're back."
"I am," She says," Can I show you something?"
You nod.
There's very little space on Jenni's arms that isn't heavily tattooed but there's a patch on her inner arm that's just big enough for a Mami fox and a baby fox.
"My drawing..." Tentatively, you reach out to trace your fingers across the tattoo, giggling when Jenni flutters kisses over your face.
At first, she thinks that's it. You're not the biggest fan of touch even from her, at least not skin-to-skin so Jenni's a little surprised when you wiggle up to her chest the next day off.
Most of the time, you stick lower by her legs because you like the feeling of her pyjamas against your face but Jenni welcomes you up higher with her as you try to find a comfortable position.
Your head rests against her collarbone as she types on her laptop, occasionally tilting her head down to give you a kiss.
Your hand reaches out slowly to touch Jenni's skin. You freeze but Jenni doesn't react in any way. A singular finger gently traces over her new tattoo.
Mami put your drawing on her body. Tattoos are forever, you know that and Mami put your drawing on her body forever.
That makes you feel nice.
Of course, the kisses she gives you whenever you complete a full trace of the tattoo is nice too.
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forever to go| lewis hamilton x fem! leclerc! reader
summary; everyone thinks that lewis hamilton and y/n leclerc just have a work type of relationship due to her role as a marketing manager in versace and him working with the designer brand. little does everyone know how their relationship truly is
fc; various girls on pinterest
warnings; ?
taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03 @c-losur3
note; requested ! i suck at titles soooo bad yall😭 ignore my titles plssssss😭
masterlist !
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and others !
yourusername: 2 years since i said ‘i do’ and just a few more weeks of us two. je t'aime mon amour. [i love you, my love]
tagged; lewishamilton
lewishamilton: i love you both, so so much🤍
lewishamilton: 2 years down and forever to go, darling.
yourusername: forever to go❤️🩹
username: WHAT THE FUCK.
username: GOOD MORNING TO YOU TOO???19;8/&;@4@:9-8&,
username: cue team lh head loss😭
username: THEY WERE MARRIED THE WHOLEEEEE TIMEEEE????
charles_leclerc: you’ll be the best mother, y/n! congratulations you two! ❤️ couldn’t have asked for a better husband for my dear sister❤️
yourusername: i had plenty of practice with you and arthur🥹🥹 thank you, my cha🩷
lewishamilton: thank you! our child will be blessed to have you as their uncle 💙
arthur_leclerc: i will be turning baby leclerc-hamilton on my side tyvm
yourusername: 🙄🙄🙄🙄
username: arthur is 100% the chaotic uncle😭
username: AWHHHH
username: wait omg her dress??? his suit??? i just KNOW that was the wedding of the century
lorenzotl: félicitations! [congratulations] so happy for you, ma petite soeur [my little sister]❤️❤️
yourusername: merci, enzo🥹🥹
charlotte2304: we’re all so excited for baby hamilton-leclerc 🩷🩷 liked by yourusername !
username: that baby is abt to be the most stylish baby oh my 😭😭😭
alexandrasaintmleux: prettiest mommy to be💘💘
yourusername: alexxxx🥹🥹🥹
leclerc_pascale: mon ange❤️❤️❤️you will be an amazing mother ❤️
yourusername: well i am learning from the best!❤️🩹🥹
username: i still can’t believe that y/n and lewis were married THIS WHOLE DAMN TIME😭
username: the timeline says that they went to the met 1 week after getting married they are so annoying aldkalxk
username: dad lewis or daddy lewis???
yourusername: ong that’s what i’ve been saying 🙄🙄
lewishamilton: oh!😄
yourusername: leave my hormones alone this is YOUR fault!!🤬🤬
lewishamilton: i’m so sorry, darling, it is my fault, do you want your latte and pastries when i get back??❤️😁
yourusername: yes plsssss💞💞😛😛💓💓
username: i need myself a lewis fr 🚶♀️🚶♀️
#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#f1 smau#f1 scenario#formula one scenarios#f1 imagine#formula one imagines#formula one imagine#f1 scenarios#lewis hamilton smau#lewis hamilton social media au#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton scenarios#lewis hamilton imagine
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Feel so close| Spencer Reid
A/N: if anyone has any good ideas for angst or fluff, or wants to send some requests through. Please do. I obviously love all of your smut requests (i truly do) but I would also love some angst and fluff ones (heavy on the angst ones).
Summary: It’s yours and Spencer’s wedding night and you want to give him what he has always wanted.
Content: Fem!reader. Fluff. Smut. 18+ MDNI. Oral (r!receiving). Creampie. P in V. Slight dom/sub undertones. Breeding kink. Very fluff filled sex I won’t lie. Porn with a plot.
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
Spencer was so close to living his dream life, and he could not be any happier. He had just seen his dream girl walk down the aisle to become Mrs Reid. And while he couldn’t be any happier, there was one thing, or really rather a few things, missing that would make his life perfect.
As he watched the last of the guests fade away, he couldn’t wait to take you to your shared hotel room. He couldn’t stop staring at you, knowing that tonight was the beginning of your forever together.
As you both entered the elegant suite, Spencer couldn’t get enough of how you looked in your wedding dress, but he also couldn’t wait to get it off you.
His hands trembled with anticipation as he reached out to caress the delicate lace adorning your shoulder. The room was aglow with the soft light of a dozen candles, casting flickering shadows across your face.
He leaned in to press a tender kiss against your lips, savouring the sweetness of the moment. “I love you Mrs Reid.” Spencer whispered, his voice filled with love and adoration. You smiled back at him, feeling a rush of warmth and happiness in your chest.
“I love you more, Dr Reid.” You whispered back, your voice barely above a breath.
His heart swelled with joy at your words, feeling like the luckiest man alive. He gently lifted you into his arms, carrying you towards the luxurious four-poster bed adorned with rose petals.
“You know there is only one thing right now that could make me even happier.” Spencer grinned mischievously as he lowered you onto the soft mattress, the petals fluttering around you like a fragrant snowfall. His eyes sparkled with desire as he leaned into whisper in your ear.
"What's that?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation, your heart pounding with excitement at the prospect of what was to come.
“If you were to become pregnant with my child.” Spencer gently confessed; his voice filled with hope.
“I’m sure we can make that happen, Spencer.” You whispered back, a playful glint in your eyes. “I know you have always wanted to be a dad.”
Spencer's face lit up with pure happiness at your words, his heart overflowing with love for you. Without wasting another moment, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss, letting all his emotions pour into the moment.
Spencer carefully started to undress you, his movements slow and reverent as if unwrapping a precious gift. The air was thick with desire and anticipation as he leaned in to kiss every inch of your exposed skin, worshipping you like a devoted lover.
“You are officially my pretty girl now.” Spencer murmured against your skin; his hand was placed on your stomach “I can’t wait to see carrying my child.”
With a loving smile, you traced your fingers along his jawline, savouring the moment. “And I can’t wait to start a family with you, Spencer,” you whispered, feeling like the luckiest woman in the world to have him by your side.
Once your dress had come completely off, Spencer couldn’t take his eyes of your white lingerie that hugged your curves in all the right places. Desire burned in his eyes as he slowly removed his own clothes, every movement deliberate and filled with longing.
In that moment, nothing else existed for Spencer except for you, the woman who held his heart in her hands. As he kissed you with a hunger that spoke of all the love and passion he felt.
Spencer slowly started kissing his way down your body, leaving no part of you neglected. His mouth was tender and passionate as he explored every inch, savouring each taste and touch. You laid there, feeling like the most desired woman in the world, your body responding to his every move.
His hands traced delicate patterns over your skin, sending ripples of desire through you. His lips then lingered at the base of your neck, and you could feel the heat from his breath. It was a gentle yet powerful affirmation of his deep love for you.
Your breathing became shallow and quick as Spencer continued his exploration, and you found yourself arching your back, inviting him closer. He seemed to sense your need and desire, and his own lustrous eyes betrayed the intensity of his own cravings.
When his lips finally reached the most intimate part of your body, a soft gasp escaped your lips. His touch was gentle yet so powerful in its ability to awaken you, and you knew that no one else could make you feel this way.
As his lips continued to lavish attention upon you, your entire body seemed to come alive with electricity, every nerve ending firing in response to his tender caresses.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, and whispered, "Spencer, I need you inside me more than ever. I want to feel you, I want to feel you complete me." Your voice trembled with desire as you spoke.
Spencer looked into your eyes, his love for you a fiery catalyst. He positioned himself over you, the anticipation making his heart race with excitement. With a deep breath, he slowly entered you, the feeling of the warmth and tightness of your body around him, unparalleled.
He slowly began to move, his rhythm in perfect harmony with the pulse of your body, matching the rhythm of your breath as his love for you grew with every stroke.
Spencer once again placed his hand on your lower stomach, he knew realistically he couldn’t feel himself, but he cherished every moment, every sensation, every feeling of being deep within you. He kissed you gently, passionately, and whispered soft encouragement, "It won't be long before I can feel you carrying my child."
Your breaths became more ragged, you wanted nothing more than to make Spencer a dad, to let everyone know you belonged to him. And so, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper inside you, increasing the intensity of the moment.
Spencer's eyes locked with yours, the love and desire in them impossible to resist. He moved faster, his pace becoming more urgent, as he sought to fulfil your shared dream. Your bodies moved in perfect sync.
Every muscle in your body tightened in response to his touch, as your climax drew closer with each thrust, a primal urge to merge with him and create new life together overwhelmed you.
Spencer wasn’t far from his own release. His heart was pounding in his chest, and a sense of awe and gratitude washed over him as he felt himself getting closer.
With one final thrust, Spencer cried out your name, his pleasure mingling with the tenderness of the moment. His heart overflowed with love and gratitude.
He collapsed onto you, his breath ragged and his heart pounding in your ears. You held onto him, feeling the pulse of his heart against the warmth of your skin, and a bond stronger than any connection you'd ever known.
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balancing act || barcelona x teen!reader ||
you struggle to find balance between school and playing for barcelona, and your teammates try to help you.
you were on the verge of tearing your hair out as you stared at the notebook in front of you. it was one of the last games of the season, and you were at the front of the bus studying for your finals. your parents had been on your ass since your last test had come back with a 76. that was better than most of your class, but your parents didn't care.
they wanted you to have something to fall back on, insistent that football wouldn't be there forever. you didn't want to believe them, you couldn't. they wanted you to go away to university and put all of the football stuff behind you within the next few years. it was one thing to do it while you were young, but they didn't see it as a full fledged career.
you hated hearing them try to convince you to look into other options. your team was fully supportive of what you wanted to do. they saw the way that you worked hard, not just relying on your talent. there was no question that you'd be a staple of barcelona football for years to come, possibly even decades. there were already news outlets calling you the future alexia putellas.
"chica, it is so boring in the back of the bus without you," mapi whined. she dropped into the seat next to you suddenly. you usually hated it whenever mapi interrupted your work, but now, she was a welcome distraction. you weren't going to understand your math any more when all of the numbers blended together. "what the hell is that?"
"calculus," you answered plainly. mapi pulled a face as she pushed it away from you, nearly knocking it onto the floor. she put her arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards her. mapi wouldn't be playing today, but she was so excited to get to come along after having had to stay behind for the past couple of games. "what are you doing up here? i thought alexia banished you away from me."
"oh, keira and tana thought that you looked like you needed a break. nothing helps clear the mind better than some quality mapi time!" mapi exclaimed. she rattled off about a million games that the two of you could play for her allotted half hour with you, but all you wanted to do was take a little nap. fortunately for you, mapi had great shoulders to rest against.
it barely took any time for you to fall asleep with mapi. you had more studying to do, but mapi shooed alexia away when she came up to remind you. alexia had a tendency to push, and if it wasn't for mapi, you definitely would have broken down much sooner than you actually did. the pressure from everything had been building up for a while, and everybody was waiting for you to blow up.
the only person who didn't seem to notice was alexia. she kept pushing and pushing, despite the warning from everybody else about pressure. alexia thrived under pressure, and you were so much like her that she assumed you did too. she failed to notice the way that your shoulders had begun to sag as you tried to go through the everyday motions of living.
…
"hola nena," sandra greeted as she sat down next to you. it was one of her last practices. you were definitely one of the saddest to see her go. she had been a staple in your life long before you had joined barcelona. the woman had lived on your street for as long as you could remember, having quickly become a family friend.
"hola sandy." your finals hadn't gone the way that you were hoping they would, so you had to do a couple of the optional end of the year assignments to make it up. you had been working on the last one whenever she walked over.
"you know that is important to rest your brain as well as your body," sandra said. she placed her hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently to get you to look at her. you glanced up from your paper, and sandra felt her heart break a little at how exhausted you looked. "what are you working on?"
"it is my physics. and no, you're not allowed to help. after the disaster that was my study session with alexia and patri, none of the team is allowed to help," you told her. sandra laughed a little. she had heard all about that, alexia complaining that the school work these days was far too difficult for anybody to reasonably understand.
"don't worry, i wouldn't even know where to start if i did want to help you," sandra joked. "i just wanted to check on you. you've been working very hard, and i know that it can get tiring."
"i'm fine. it's what i have to do. i keep my grades up, i get to play. that's the deal." sandra frowned at the almost robotic way you repeated the words that your parents, alexia, and the coaches had been drilling into you. "i can't rely on football forever. one day, i'll have to do someting else, right?"
"what would you want to do if you couldn't play football?" sandra asked you. that wasn't a question that anybody had ever asked you. your parents were insistent that you'd have to have a good career after football to take care of your family, and alexia talked to you like football was always going to be all there was. nobody had ever stopped to ask what you wanted to do, so you never thought about it.
"well, i don't really know," you admitted.
"that's perfectly fine, you're young. just don't put too much thought into what everybody else wants for you," sandra reminded you. she pressed a kiss to the top of your head as she got up to leave you alone. you let her words echo around in your head. it was a good thing to remember, even if it would be hard to undo the years of people pleasing you had grown accustomed to.
…
barcelona was full of motherly figures. sometimes, you found it to be a bit overbearing, but most of them knew when to back off. they had all sort of been alternating trying to check on you. usually, you were mature enough to realize that there had to be a reason for them to be so overbearing, but with the added stress of everything, you hadn't.
marta was one of your favorites. the woman had immediately taken you under her wing whenever you came up from the academy. she was one of the players that you looked up to the most. she had played at barcelona since you could remember, truly a club legend. it was surreal sometimes knowing that she was cheering you on.
whenever you had sprinted off after blowing up at marta's girlfriend, caroline, you had been terrified. marta had every reason to be mad at you. hell, you were pretty mad at yourself for getting so mean with someone who truly just wanted to make sure that you were okay. you swore that you saw caroline's eyes begin to tear up as you raced away from everybody and everything as fast as you could.
"(y/n), what is going on with you?" marta was the last person that you expected to come after you. much to your surprise, marta wasn't outwardly angry with you. if anything, you just saw concern in her eyes as she stared down at you.
"i don't really know," you mumbled. it was true, you had no idea why you were feeling the way that you were. it was normal for teenagers to get a bit angsty and angry, but this felt out of control. no matter what you did or who you spent time with, your mood never seemed to improve. "nothing helps, it's like i can't relax."
"can i tell you what i think?" marta asked cautiously. you trusted her, and knew that she wouldn't say anything if you didn't want her to. there wasn't any harm in hearing her out, so you nodded your head for her to continue. "i think that you're exhausted. it's been pretty obvious to most of us for a while. we've all tried to tell you to slow down, but we can't make that decision for you. have you tried talking to your parents about how you feel?"
"my mom says that i should look into summer classes, but i have to test into them. she's worried that i won't make it in. my finals didn't look good, and she says that she wants what's best for me, but i don't know if i believe that anymore," you said. it felt nice to get it off of your chest.
"would it be okay if some of us talked to her? maybe alexia or irene can lead the charge if you think that it would help. none of us want to see you like this anymore. we miss our little chica, the little ball of happiness and energy." marta caressed your cheek, and you leaned into her hand. you were absolutely exhausted, and it was like a weight was lifted off of your chest for having finally spoken about your feelings.
"thank you, marta." her heart broke a little at how defeated you sounded. she hated that they had let things get this bad. "i should go apologize to caro, she looked upset."
"do not worry about that right now. most of the girls are in the gym. i think that mapi left a blanket in the locker room for you. please just take a nap and then we can all have a big talk later, vale?" marta asked hopefully. she breathed out a sigh of relief when you got up and walked to the locker room. around an hour and a half later, she found you fast asleep on the bench in front of caroline's locker. there was a note with your apology written out on it, as well as one to each of the girls that you had already snapped at that week.
"she's a good kid," alexia said as she glanced down at your body. it was blocking her seat in front of her own locker, but alexia was happy to move around you for the time being. she believed that you needed your rest more than she needed to sit.
"she really is," sandra agreed. "i think that i'm going to take her home for a little while. she can sleep at my house while we talk to her parents."
"will they listen?" irene asked. she had heard a lot of things about your parents, whether from sandra or you in passing that made her question whether or not they really had your best interests at heart.
"if they don't, ingrid and i will take her in," mapi promised. for a moment, there were a couple of skeptical looks thrown around, but alexia shut each of them down quickly. alexia could see the seriousness in mapi's eyes well enough to know that the woman meant it. you were like her little sister, and mapi just wanted to make sure that you were properly taken care of. she already felt like she had failed you for letting you get so stressed.
…
you let out a heavy sigh as you flopped back against your bed. it felt weird to think about. this was your bed in your room in your home. your parents' place had been your home once, but it didn't feel nearly as warm and safe as mapi and ingrid's apartment did. this was a place where your best interests were truly at heart, with your input included.
it was definitely sad leaving your parents behind, but they had been all too happy to sign you away. they didn't want to keep you around if you weren't going to listen to them. somehow, they had tried to turn this all around on you for failing them, but your teammates were quick to shut that down. alexia and the others hadn't even walked out before mapi and ingrid were pulling up to take you away.
"that was the last box chica. i was going to suggest that we take a break because ingrid is on her way back with pizza. do you want some time alone or would you like to watch some tv with me and alexia?" mapi asked you. a part of you wanted to sit and sulk about your parents letting you go, but the part of you that wanted to enjoy your new family won out. you shot off of your bed and followed mapi into the living room.
alexia was curled up with a blanket on the bigger couch in the living room. you and mapi seemed to have the same idea as you rushed over to either side of alexia. the two of you played a little game of tug of war that alexia helped you win. you cuddled up against alexia's side, nearly falling asleep before ingrid got back with pizza. it was definitely different than the environment that you were used to, but it was a heartily welcomed changed.
#woso fanfics#woso x reader#woso imagine#teen reader#platonic fic#barcelona femeni x reader#barcelona femeni imagine#barcelona x reader#barcelona imagine
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mr. sandman, bring me a dream
✧ pairing 7 dream x reader
✧ genre/tw fluff fluffy fluff fluff, what i think dating them would be like <3 an embarrassing amount of run-on sentences i'm sure.... the dreamies being the most perfect boyfriends to exist, mostly unedited
✧ w/c 2293 (about 300 words each!!)
✧ a/n back to my roots writing for nct... also,,, not the dreamies being my ult group but my last group to do these headcanons for :/ i have so much fun writing these little ideas and dreams about them let me know if you want more!
MARK truly the definition of wrapped around your finger… tells everyone about you every day of his life. Smiles at everything you say and calls you the cutest names. Makes sure everyone knows that you’re taken for life–no ifs about it. Tells you about his whole day, down to the most unimportant details. Kisses you all around your face and gets red seeing you so flustered. Constantly saying the worst pickup lines. Always always makes time for you even with his busy schedule. Talks to your family on the phone and becomes best friends with your siblings. Lets you win during video games and pretends that you’re just so much better than him. Never comes empty-handed–if you invite him over he’s bringing some sort of present he can’t help it. Wraps you up in at least three layers when it looks a little cold outside. Starts bringing up ideas for a Halloween couple’s costume in January. Celebrates your birthdays and accomplishments like his own. Holds you close to him in any moment of rest, the members are around? He’s only bringing you in closer. I’m sorry to say this, but he is definitely one of those people who refer to you as a “we”... “we watched that movie last week!” or “sorry, we can’t come, we have plans.” Would never even think about fighting with you and when it can’t be avoided, he is always the first to apologize. Walks around draped over you, his neck falling onto your shoulder and clumsily shuffling you along. Steals your phone to take silly pictures of himself, and you end up having 500 selfies of Mark making the same five kissy faces. Fixes your clothes/jewelry/hair as the day takes its toll. Kisses your wrist whenever you hold hands. Lovely and forever committed to giving you the sweetest existence possible.
RENJUN My angel boy<3 would be the most loving boyfriend if you’re able to get past him giving you sm attitude. Lovingly scolds you 24/7 365. Pouts if you don’t say you love him back or forget to kiss him before you leave. Steals your sweaters and jewelry. Makes you laugh so hard you cry, then kisses the tears away. Has the worst case of cute aggression when he see’s you like he can’t help but take a bite out of you. Whenever you ask him to do something he’ll roll his eyes and scoff but still gets up to do it anyway. Says your name so sweetly and with so much love it could be a term of endearment. Sings to you when you’re sad. Holds you so tight when you sleep, like he could absorb you into his own skin. Carries a picture of you in his wallet everywhere he goes. Gets genuinely annoyed when other people know something about you that he didn’t–wants to know everything, especially the embarrassing stuff. Acts of service king, does things for you and expects nothing but a kiss in return. Gives you the first bite of his food. Forehead kisses 100% of the time. Extremely tenderhearted, wants to be loved and love in return with nothing holding him back. Knows your schedule down to a T. Shakes his head at every joke you tell, but still grants you a laugh. Kisses you slowly and earnestly even if theres people around. Drops the most earth-shattering confessions of love at random moments and just expects you to move on. Matching accessories are a must!! And he will be ready to break up if your forget it one day (we have seen how he is with the dreamies friendship rings). Wraps himself completely around you when no one is around, and stays that way until one of you has to get up. Loves completely and wholeheartedly and is a perfect perfect boy.
JENO Shy and perpetually flustered, cannot believe he got you fr. Alternates between the cockiest boy you’ve ever met and the most oblivious creature around. Is so in awe of you, cannot get over you choosing him. A big baby of a boyfriend. Body slouched over yours at all times. Tells everyone it isn’t obvious how unbelievably whipped he is for you than giggles when you call him a pet name. Loves when you fawn over him lol, would feel so good about himself when you laugh at his jokes or wear an outfit because he said you looked pretty in it. Definitely the kind of boy who gets you a necklace with his initials on it. Is somehow even more smiley when you’re around. His love language is 100% acts of service–helping you with chores and making dinner, he desperately wants to wash your hair and help take your makeup off. Always takes you home himself and makes you call him before you go to bed. Kisses you all over when you’re sad and squeezes you so tight you can’t breathe. Puts his lips right over your ear and whispers so you can hear him in loud places, sometimes telling terrible jokes to see you laugh. Constantly on the phone with you–will get yelled at by his members and staff to focus on his schedule. Takes you on long drives and lets you have the aux the whole time, smiles even when he hates the song. Snuggles up to you and has you in an iron grip all night; wakes up periodically to tell you to stop wiggling. Literally a broken record of “oh my s/o would like this!” and “you would never believe what my s/o told me…” Tucks you into his sweater when you’re cold and always carries extra clothes because he knows you’ll forget. Could never hide his feelings for you, it’s written all over–hairbands and your favorite snacks in his cabinets. Is so so so in love with you, and would never even think about being embarrassed of it. <3
HAECHAN Sweet as cherry pie. Silly and charming and the kindest boy you know. Lives his life attached to you, hands on your hips and kisses pressed everywhere he can reach. Never goes a day without telling you he loves you in the most sickeningly sweet ways possible. Listens to every word you say, goes as far as telling other people to be quiet so he can hear you better. Serenades you with the most obnoxious renditions of love songs and coos when you make faces at him. Teases you endlessly–tickles and jokes and ridiculous nicknames, but would never let anyone else make a joke at your expense. Sleeps fully on top of you, head pressed under your chin and hands slipped under your sleep shirt. Celebrates you and your relationship with all of him, always the loudest voice singing happy birthday and the prettiest flowers congratulating you for an achievement at work or school. Speaks to you so softly and with so much compassion you almost get whiplash when you see him around the dreamies. Brings home sweet treats and little keepsakes from his day out. Will watch a movie or listen to a new song and note all the parts you’d like so he can play it for you later and speak to you about it. Unbelievably protective, not in a toxic way, but he wants so much to be able to take care of you and keep you safe–hand pressed on your back while you walk through crowds, and his hand protecting you from hitting your head as you get in the car. Has lists of important days in his notes app, cataloging gifts he could get you and your order at all your favorite restaurants. The perfect silly boyfriend, caring and lovely and everything you need
JAEMIN Marry this man. Has been committed and steadfast in his dedication to you since you met. Extremely serious when it comes to your heart and your feelings. The first to say I love you or to apologize after a fight–would never raise his voice at you or say things he didn’t mean. Is always feeding you, either a complete meal that took him an hour to make or the most perfect bowl of ramyeon you’ve ever had. Constantly sending you pictures of the cats. LOVES pda–kisses you in front of everyone and laughs when they groan, cuddles with you on the practice room couch, and rolls his eyes when the dreamies gag. Always kisses you with soft hands on your cheeks and the prettiest smile. Buys you a keepsake from everywhere they go on tour and gives it to you in a huge suitcase and will not feel ashamed in the slightest. Somehow finds out how to bring you up in every conversation, “oh they really like this song” or “thats actually their favorite movie you know…” you would truly never have to worry about anything with this man, he’s gonna take care of everything, a future airport dad if i’ve ever seen one. Sends tiktoks of cute animals and pouts if you don’t like them right away. Buys you silly sweatshirts and phonecases and demands you wear them proudly as a symbol of his everlasting love. Out of all of the boys, I feel like he is the most likely to give you a promise ring, and in my heart, I know he would have his name engraved on the inside–a quiet confession only the two of you know about. Sleeps directly on top of you, I just know it… holds onto you in every crowd. So many conversations between little kisses and I love yous. Always carries your things, whether it be a bag or shoes that got too uncomfortable his hands are open and ready whenever you need them. The most perfect boy in the world, and whose surprised?
CHENLE truly your best friend in the entire world, f2l in its entirety… would roast you every minute of every day but if anyone else even dared he is shutting that shit down right away. His arm has a permanent residence on your waist. Giggles at you when you’re annoyed at him but apologizes anyway. Makes you watch him play basketball at 11 pm and laughs when you say you're cold and sleepy, but takes you home right away. Will kiss you in front of anyone–loves it when you get all shy and flustered. Always trying to give you expensive presents and rolling his eyes when you tell him to reign it in. dog dates with Daegal!!! Talks about you so causally that the dreamies didn’t realize you were his girlfriend until he kissed you goodbye, and they were all so dumbfounded. Will watch anything if you like it and will tell you it sucked with a smile on his face before kissing you as an apology. Huge bouquets for any anniversary or birthday. Wraps his arms around you and rocks you around, whispering sweet words that he’d deny if you told anyone about. Stares at you 24/7 and gives you his 100-watt smile. Goes out of his way to help you–buys your groceries, helps wash your hair, picks you up, and takes you wherever you need to go–but always denies it. Begs you to wear his clothes, bonus points if it’s something that has his name on it, or some nct merch. Has an iron grip on your hand at any given point and giggles when you try to get free. Will listen to literally anything you tell him. Smiles into kisses and sighs when you pull away. Is so domestic and lovely in everything he does, even if sometimes he is the biggest menace.
JISUNG so so so shy, truly does not know how to have a s/o in public lmao. When you’re alone he’s the cutest most confident boy in the world but as soon as there is another person around he does not know you. He makes it obvious that it's just because he’s awkward, but sometimes you definitely do have to tell him to stop being a weirdo and to hold your hand. Constantly makes fun of people with you and is always ready to hear some hot goss. Is always listening to you–even if everyone in the room is talking over you, he will be looking at you with his full attention and urging you to go on. Laughs at everything you say even if it's not funny. Kisses your cheek every morning first thing, and thinks you look so cute cuddled up into the covers. Piggy-backs you everywhere: you drank a little too much or it's too early… up you go! You being comfortable and happy is his priority in any situation, and if anyone including himself is disrupting that he is dealing with it immediately. Whether that means complaining to one of hyungs to help him or going straight to the source of the issue, he’s going to try and help you, even if it’s not like him to speak up for himself–you’re the most important thing to him. Tries to teach you nct dances and gets unbearable secondhand embarrassment when he sees you mess up. Almost exposes your relationship once a month. Is wrapped around you every single moment you’re alone, even if it’s just for a second–someone leaves the room? Jisung is suddenly fully enveloping you. Thinks pda is so embarrassing but would try so hard to be more openly affectionate with you. Blushes to his roots when you sweet talk him no matter how long you’ve been together. Kisses your hands when it’s cold outside and wouldn’t even think about giving you anything of his if you needed it. The sweetest, shyest boy, and so wonderful–loving him and being loved in return would be the loveliest gift.
© LUVTAK
#k-labels#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#nct scenarios#nct imagines#nct dream imagines#jeno x reader#mark x reader#jaemin x reader#haechan x reader#chenle x reader#park jisung x reader#nct dream#nct
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2:44 ⟡ lhs
genre & warnings est relationship basketball! player heeseung(?) fluff heated kiss lmk if there's more back2navi
NOTE this is for heeseung's gf aka my gf aka nini aka the greatest writer ever aka @flwrstqr !! also this is proofread for the first time in forever :3 (thx to my friend) enjoy as always and click the like button + subscribe (reblog)
“each time i get it into the basket i get a kiss, okay?” heeseung says with full determination in his eyes. you giggle at his remark and nod, “okay..."
“but what if you don't?” you taunt, trying not to smirk.
“trust me baby, i will. i’ll shoot every shot and you have to kiss me every time i do so.” you giggle again at his desperation to get a kiss from you.
you watch him step back on the court and dribble the ball. he sends you a wink as he gets ready to shoot the ball in the basket. you send him a flying kiss of good luck and the ball is up in the air.
you watch the ball fall through the basket as heeseung makes his way towards you. you clap, “impressive, seungie.” he mumbles a small “hm” before pulling you by the waist.
you stumble a bit, shocked by the sudden action of your boyfriend.
“where's my kiss, princess?”
god he looked so good right now, but you couldn't give in. not yet, at least. you wanted to tease him a bit more, make him work for you to get a kiss.
“um....uh....” he chuckles at your cuteness. he lifts your chin to get a better look of your face, your lips to be more specific.
“what was that, doll?” he smirks. screw him for using such petnames on you. it was your weakness, and he knew that. you put your arms around his neck and you move closer than before. you hear his breath hitch at your action.
you give him a peck on his cheek and smile at him. “here's your kiss!” you say, giggling at his mood change.
“oh come on! just give me one kiss on the lips, please?” he pouts, “i couldn't kiss you at all today! this is torture.” he whines.
“m’ sorry baby, come back here, i’ll give you an actual kiss this time. promise,” you tug at his arm to get him closer to you. you wrap your arms around his neck once more and this time, you kiss him on his lips.
he instantly melts into your lips. his hands travel down your waist, gently holding your figure as your lips dance against each other’s. you deepen the kiss, earning a groan from him.
you pull away from his lips, looking at him as tip toe to reach his ear. you whisper an ‘i love you’ before giving him another peck on the cheek.
“you drive me crazy.” he says breathlessly. you smile as you connect your lips with his again.
#— 𝐛𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐢 𝐛𝐨𝐲 🦌#— 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 : 𝐥𝐢𝐳 ୨ৎ 💋#k-labels#enhypen au#enhypen fluff#enhypen imagines#enha fluff#enha imagines#enha x reader#heeseung x reader#heeseung#lee heeseung#enhypen heeseung#heeseung fluff#heeseung imagines#heeseung smau#enhypen smau#enhypen x reader#enhypen fanfiction#enhypen fake texts#heeseung enha#heeseung texts#enhablr#enhypen#heeseung enhypen#lee heesung x reader#enhypen drabbles#enhypen scenarios#enhypen angst#enha
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(In Lilias dream) General Lilia X reader : Hidden pregnancy
General warnings: The reader mentioned being pregnant, but no pronouns are used. Situationship described, mention of heat...honestly, just a shitty scenario I half-baked when day-dreaming at work the other day. really self-indulgent and not my best work, but ima share it anyway. Cause'. I like the idea, even if I can't execute it very well. HAHAHA
"You" general Lilia pointed during the dream, startling you as you ate peacefully at the food you 'humans' had so kindly put together for the fae army. You looked up curiously and tilted your head, heart pounding in your chest at the sight of the beautiful man you had known to be important to you.
"You're pregnant. With a fae child, nonetheless." He said bluntly. The suddenness of his comment left your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, and you were immediately alarmed. With a loss of appetite and eyes wavering, you threw a panicked glance at Sebek and Silver; both who were staring at you with wide eyes and spoons halfway out their mouths.
You hadn't a clue that fae were able to tell such things. Questions swirled around your mind all at once: Did Lilia in reality realize this? or perhaps his magic and senses dwindled so much he hadn't taken much notice? What are you to say in response? However, there were more pressing issues to think of at the moment. And that was the way the two boys rushed to your side in shock, Silver grabbing your hands and looking you in the eyes earnestly.
"You...you're what..?" The silver-haired boy peered into your eyes with concern, "You're...pregnant? Is it...is it his?" You pursed your lips and held back tears that threatened to pour out of your melancholy orbs and your hands trembled with fear. You gave a nod in response. You could feel the gaze and judgment of the fae surrounding you, including Sebek, who knew well enough to hold his tongue at this moment where you seemed to be at the edge of a breakdown. Bauer, his grandfather, on the other hand, scoffed in almost disbelief at the mere notion a fae would copulate with a human. Such were the times in the dream that Lilia was having, however, you felt no true judgment wafting off of the long-haired general.
"Yeah. It's his. But...he wanted to leave and I ...need to go home. I can't.. I mean, I want to stay, with him, but I know that he is losing his magic and he wants to go to a faraway land, and I...I don't want to hold him back from doing what he wants. Besides, he believes he's too old to start parenting all over again, I just-"
You started going off on a nervous tangent, vomiting every word and excuse that came to your mind. Bauer made a snide and astonished comment about the situation, Sebek following suit not without a piercing glare from Lilia and a sneer of dissatisfaction. Uncertain how to proceed, Lilia moved past Silver and placed an uncertain and awkward hand on top of your head in an attempt to console you.
"Fae are eternally loyal to one mate. If your fae lover is noble and virtuous, he will not abandon you. Speak to him, perhaps there's a misunderstanding." You almost winced at the word "lover," for could you really classify your relationship with him as such? Of course, there were times of flirtiness, but you two felt comfortable in each other's presence (clearly). Yet...Lilia Vanrouge is a very mysterious man who worked in ways that will forever be unfathomable to you. He kept his relationships at arm's length, and you were not far behind. You just so happen to be there at the time of his heat, the instincts of two bodies craving affection indulging in primitive actions. So...what he felt about your...relationship...was beyond you.
General Lilia averted his rosey gaze from your own trembling orbs, your lips pursed and embarrassingly staring at the ground unable to make eye contact with the others.
He would have insisted you stay behind in your state, however felt compelled to bring you with him under the guise that he would better be able to keep a watchful eye on you in case this was some sort of ploy to induce some sort of surprise attack. However, it was obvious to any onlooker the way he tended to your needs, protect you from harms way, and at random inquired of your state. The rest of the army that followed him was in awe seeing their general practically 'dote' (for lack thereof better terms) on this random human who was impregnated, to their knowledge, by some other fae.
You wanted to hold on to the belief that he subconsciously knew the truth, even in this dream world, the Lilia you had come to love was attentively paying attention to your fragile state at all times.
And...somehow you knew that it would be alright.
#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst headcannons#twst fics#Lilia#Lilia x reader#Lilia vanrouge#Lilia vanrouge x reader#Lilia vanrouge headcannons#Lilia vanrouge fanfic
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Yandere Head Canons:
Denial of Desire
Yandere Vampiress x Henchman Fem Reader
TW: comphet, internalized homophobia, denial of feelings, yearning, slowly slippping into madness, yandere behavior, unhealthy relationship, murder (threatened), etc.
Ophelia often dismissed you despite your constant concern of her well being. You knew she was a vampire and a mistress of the night, but she consistently put herself in danger. You once loved Ophelia, yet you knew she was straight. It would be rude to impose your feelings on your mistress when she only held distaste for you. Especially since you were nothing more than a servant to Ophelia.
Whether it was to hunt for food or to bring some random man back to her manor, you always had to clean up the mess. It started to get on your nerves since you were still new to being a vampire yourself… yet you had no interest in drinking human blood. Not like Ophelia did.
“Your cleaning skills are subpar. Can’t you do it any better?” Ophelia nagged you as she kicked over your mop bucket with her black pinkie wickers. You sighed, hours of work now ruined in mere seconds.
“My lady, I was simply on the first round of mopping. This quite difficult to remove old blood from the walls and floor.”
“Then find a better way to do it. I need to fetch my next victim soon and I don’t want them to see this mess.” Ophelia gestured to you and the filthy floor. “If you have any complaints, you can simply leave.”
You bowed your head and frowned. No matter how kind you were to your mistress or how you did your best to meet her demands, it was never enough. You were never enough.
“Apologies, I’ll keep cleaning.” You went back to scrubbing the walls and floor. You couldn’t let her rudeness get to you… not until you found a new master at least. Ophelia would be hosting a vampire ball by the end of the week so you may have your chance to flee then?
Ophelia studied your form before she smiled. You never complained no matter how rude she was to you, it was a trait she adored about you. She wished every servant was like you. It would make her life less stressful then… except she knew you were her favorite. You always dutifully fulfilled your every command in a timely manner… Ophelia was positive you’d always stay by her side. Why would you ever leave your mistress? She made you.
Ophelia had brought yet another man home and quickly whisked him up to her room without sparing you a glance. You shook your head at her antics before you decided to explore the manor’s garden to tend to. Despite now being a creature of the night, you still retained your love for gardening. It was just a shame you could never see the flowers under the sunlight again…
Ophelia on the other hand, couldn’t even get past kissing with this man. He was just like all the others before him… no matter what she did, it felt wrong. Being with men made her feel sick to her stomach and the vampiress didn’t understand why.
All her life, her parents told her she’d find a man one day and she could turn him into a vampire to be with her… yet all of them were subpar. Their genitalia disgusted her and they were far too hairy for her. Everything about men was gross other than their blood. That’s all they seemed to be good for…
Ophelia wiped her mouth from yet another messy meal, the vampiress made her way to her balcony to study her night garden. And that’s when she spotted you. What were you doing down there?
Ophelia studied your form as you trimmed up some of the bushes and tended to the flowers. You were so soft looking compared to the men. Soft and delicate like the petals of the roses below… forever young and beautiful thanks to Ophelia. You’d never have to age or worry about sickness. In Ophelia’s mind, she saved you. Yet why did you always look so sad? Was her company not enough for you?
Ophelia rested her arms on her balcony, her red eyes scanned your sullen form in thought. She wondered if her night would be different if it was you beneath her and not the many men she’s brought to her room. If your skin was as soft as it looked… if you were sensitive and lovely- no!
Ophelia shook her head and pushed herself from the balcony in haste. The vampiress ran a pale hand through her Snow White locks in horror. Why would she think of you in such a way? You were another woman… you weren’t a man. You were soft and sweet like fruit but she couldn’t have you. She couldn’t sleep with you because you were a woman. And Ophelia wasn’t a lesbian… she couldn’t be. She had to produce a pure blood vampire, it was her destiny.
Yet her impure thoughts said otherwise. Ophelia knew the truth deep down… she loved you. It’s why she was so mean to you. It was to try to scare you away.
When the ball came around, Ophelia’s breath hitched when she spotted you in your dress. How could someone look so lovely? If she still had a beating heart, she was sure it would burst
Ophelia did her best to ignore you at the ball but her eyes often shifted to you as you danced with other vampires… how could you dance so carefree with other women? Didn’t you feel shame like she did?
It was when Ophelia hung out with a young couple of pure blood vampires that she questioned herself. This couple consisted of two women? Two female vampires could be together? It was okay to be… she had no idea she could make that choice.
Ophelia felt tears gather in her eyes as the two pure bloods reassure her that it was okay to like other women. That they were immortal creatures who could do whatever they pleased.
And that was all it took for Ophelia to go running after you. The vampiress had to confess, she had to tell you how she felt-
Ophelia nearly fell to the floor when she saw you kissing another vampiress. Her dead heart dropped to her feet in shock when you ran your fingers through the other woman’s black locks. You… you were hers. You were her servant and no one else’s!
Ophelia wanted to kill this vampire you touched! How dare she touch you when you were her property! You cannot be with anyone other than Ophelia, herself!
Ophelia rushed forward and separated you from the other vampire. Her breathing ragged and her white hair in disarray. “I am in need of your assistance this instant. You do not have time to fraternize with the other candies here.”
You can’t even protest as Ophelia dragged you away by your arm. You’re speechless when Ophelia dragged you up the stairs towards her room.
“Mistress-“ You’re suddenly thrown to her bed, unable to scramble away since Ophelia lunged at you.
“I hate you…” Ophelia cried. “I hate how you make me feel. How I can’t get you out of my mind.”
“Mistress-“ Ophelia pressed her lips against yours with fervency. Her hands hungrily grasped at your flesh. You’re absolutely gobsmacked at this transgression. What?
“I hate you so much because I love you. I love you so much, it makes me crazy.” Ophelia muttered into your lips. “And I don’t care who I have to kill or what I have to do, I won’t let anyone else have you.”
#female reader#yandere fic#yandere imagine#yandere#yandere obsession#yandere horror#yandere headcanons#yandere villain#yandere lesbian#yandere wlw#sapphism#sapphic#yandere vampire#yandere monster#yandere monster x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc x you#yandere original character#yandere concept#yandere insert#yandere imagines#yandere female#yandere girl#yandere girlfriend#fem reader#wlw yearning#wlw love#comphet#girl and girl
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risk (fic)
jj maybank x fem!kook!reader | partly inspired by this incredible scene
content warnings: sexual content; physical violence
word count: 18k.
Blurb: after a hurricane, a Labrador shows up at JJ's house. After some posters go up around the country, JJ begrudgingly returns the dog to you on Figure Eight. Little did he know that his life was about to change forever.
This is actually insane.
JJ has no idea how everything went to shit faster than a penny falling from the top of the Empire State Building. It seems to be the crux of his life.
One minute Rafe is beating the shit out of JJ’s face, Kelce holding him tight in a headlock, with Pope being strangled to his right by Topper, and the next everyone is still like rock.
There you stand, holding up a gun, safety unlatched, with the aim set directly at the centre of Rafe’s forehead. He’s already called your bluff once. It’s a classic Mexican stand-off. Nobody knows what you’re going to do next, not even JJ. Hell, he’s not even sure if you know what you’ll do next.
And it’s crazy to think that all of this started because of a dog.
Two Months Earlier
It always sucks when JJ admits to himself that Kiara was right. She was right about most things, in fairness, but just this once – just for a change – he had hoped that she wasn’t.
The blonde-haired boy stands in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at a poster taped to a streetlamp. His teeth gnaw on his lower lip in thought as he tugs the poster free, as if gaining a closer look might change what he sees.
MISSING DOG
IF FOUND PLEASE RETURN TO 12 SILVER CANOE WAY, FIGURE EIGHT
REWARD AVAILABLE
The picture is an uncanny reflection of the dog currently sat by JJ’s feet. He’s panting in the sun, blissfully unaware of the curveball tossed at his temporary owner. As JJ looks from the black-and-white poster to the middle-aged dog, he has to begrudgingly admit to himself that Kiara was right. This dog wasn’t a stray. Instead, he was the pet of some bratty, spoilt Kook.
“Whose dog is that?” Kiara asks.
JJ follows her gaze to the labrador cosied up on the porch, soaking up the sun like it was his God-given right.
“Mine,” he says.
“Yours?”
“Yeah, he just showed up after the hurricane."
It was true. The morning after the hurricane, JJ ventured out of his house to assess the damage only to hear a rustling and whimper from under the porch. Getting down on his hands and knees, expecting to find some beaten racoon, JJ came face to face with a petrified, middle-aged labrador. No collar. His cream coat was covered in dirt and dust and a small cut near his eye told JJ he’d found his way to his house during the hurricane, likely seeking shelter. After he coaxed him out with some fresh fish, the dog seemed to take a liking to the seventeen-year-old. JJ took it as the dog distribution system shining the light on him but Kiara didn’t seem so sure.
“And you’re just gonna claim him?”
“He’s a stray,” JJ tells her.
She looks to the dog again, then back to JJ. Her face essentially says, ‘seriously, dude?’
“He is!”
“A dog that well-groomed and that well fed is not a stray, and you know it.”
JJ’s stomach twists. He’d thought the same thing once he’d given the dog a wipe down. A full stomach, trimmed fur, trained to do more than just sit…Strays don’t come like that in Kildare County. But JJ liked the company the dog brought. He’d always wanted one, ever since he was a kid, but his dad would never allow it. Waste of money and food, he’d say. But so far, JJ had managed to keep the dog’s existence on the downlow. He wasn’t very loud or yappy. In fact, he was as calm as sea turtle. JJ liked the bond that had so quickly grown between them. So, swallowing the faint feeling of guilt of keeping someone’s dog, he tells Kiara:
“Well, until someone puts a poster up, I’m sticking to my gut. He’s a stray and he belongs with me.”
It’s like the universe was calling his bluff or something.
JJ crumples the poster in his fist, litters it on the street, and gently tugs on the leash.
“Come on, boy,” he mutters.
The dog gets to its feet and follows JJ down the street, back to the Chateau. He seems rather drained from the brief walk around the cut. Curls up by the front door in a patch of shade, yawning before nestling his head between his large paws for a nap. JJ watches him from the kitchen as he sips on a cold cider. His mind is in battle between right and wrong (as it usually is) as he contemplates the poster.
Kiara nearly falls over the dog as she walks into the Chateau. Then, she shoots a deadly glare to JJ.
“You didn’t go to the vet, did you?”
“Who actually microchips their pets, anyway?”
“Most people, JJ. It’s a clever way to make sure you get your dog back if, let’s say, it runs off in a hurricane without a collar,” Kie returns.
JJ rolls his eyes and takes another swig of his drink. “I’ll take him tomorrow.”
“Actually, there’s no need,” Kiara says. She walks across the room to him and pulls something from her back pocket. As she unfolds the rectangle of paper, JJ comes face to face with the very poster that had been occupying his mind for the past half hour. She holds it out to him.
“See? This is someone’s dog.”
“That could be any dog,” JJ lies.
Kiara quirks a brow. JJ breaks easily, sighing.
“Look, can we just consider the possibility that this dog would be happier with me?” JJ argues. He ditches his cider and makes his way over to the animal. “I mean, he likes me, Kie. And he listens to me. And I like having him around.”
Lowering to his knees, he pets the dog awake from his slumber. He makes an adorable grumbling-whine as he rouses from his sleep. Looking over to Kiara, JJ must resemble an eight-year-old begging their parents for candy at the grocery store.
“I’ll take good care of him,” he promises.
Kiara sighs. Her icy exterior softens, features overcome with sympathy. She joins him and the dog on the floor, scratching at the pet’s back.
“I know you will, JJ,” she says. “But this is someone’s pet. And they clearly want him back. It’s the right thing to do.”
“Since when do I ever do the right thing?” JJ mumbles. He looks down to meet the chocolate brown eyes of his new best friend.
“Since today, hopefully.”
JJ holds the dog’s gaze. There’s such tenderness in his eyes, as the dog stares up at him. Makes JJ feel as though he is the most important thing on this earth. Dogs don’t care about money or mind: you treat them right and give them a good stick, and they’ll be happy forever. Unconditional love like that is rare to find in humans. It seems to JJ like it’s almost impossible, really. But then he thinks of the dog looking at a little girl or boy like that, and how (as spoilt as they may be) the child feels nothing but love for the dog in return. It seems cruel to take that away. He knows deep down what the right thing is. The moral thing.
“Tomorrow,” JJ quietly says. Looking up, meeting Kiara’s eyes, he nods reluctantly. “I’ll take him to the house tomorrow.”
She smiles smally, nodding to herself. Getting to her feet, she leaves JJ alone with the dog to enjoy the last few hours of time together. He ends up falling asleep on the pull-out couch with the dog, face buried in the scruff of his neck, as he unconsciously counts down the hours left until he gives him back.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
JJ stretches out the walk to the house for as long as possible. He lets the dog sniff at every scent and even tries to coax a million pee breaks out of him. He lingers by the sea, stroking the dog’s fur, and shares a hot dog as they pass a gas station. Eventually, they arrive at Figure Eight. The hurricane left the cell towers down on The Cut, so he didn’t bother with his phone. That leaves him to follow street signs until he’s making his way up Silver Canoe Way.
The houses are insane. Marvels of architecture and money. Bright green hedges trimmed into the most obscure shapes; useless statutes standing pretty in front gardens, protected by walls and security cameras. Fountains on almost every property, and a pool probably found in every back garden. Lucky sons of bitches.
House 12 is gorgeous: cream stone bricks and oak-style wood accents. There isn’t a gate, which is curious considering all the others down the road have one. JJ feels as though he’s trespassing as he makes his way up the driveway. There's not a single weed sprouting between paving slabs. There’re two cars in the driveway, each probably cost more than his life insurance pay-out. He imagines birds that dare shit on them get taxed: it’s the only way to explain their cleanliness. God, living like this and he can half understand why Kooks are as obnoxious as they are. What appear to be marble steps lead to a huge front door. The dog seems to know where he is, tugging excitedly on the leash as he guides JJ up the stairs.
JJ stands for a long moment. He looks down at the dog, takes in its wagging tail, and sighs. As he lifts his fist to rap against the door, it swings open. JJ is just as stunned as you. He doesn’t have time to apologise for startling you, because your eyes drop from JJ to the barking dog. You sink to the floor, mouth falling open, and willingly let your dog tackle you in a hug. His leash slips from JJ’s hold. You scruff the dog’s neck, press kisses all over his face, and giggle tearfully as your dog greets you after almost a week apart.
“Oh my God! Ranger! Oh my God!” you happily cry over and over again.
JJ immediately feels evil for even contemplating keeping your dog, Ranger, to himself.
The moment Ranger seems to gain some composure, you remember JJ’s existence. Looking up, you quickly wipe away your tears from under your eyes and clamber back to your feet.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I’m so rude!” you laugh, sticking out a hand. He shakes it as you introduce yourself.
“JJ,” he replies.
There’s a moment of recognition that passes over your face but it’s gone as soon as it comes, like the flash of green at sunset on the horizon.
“Thank you so much,” you say. One of your hands reaches down to ruffle at Ranger’s neck. JJ takes in how happy he is, staring up at you, grinning and panting, tongue out with exertion. “Where did you find him?”
“He kinda found me,” JJ replies, scratching the back of his neck. “Showed up under my house just after the hurricane. Guessing he got spooked or something.”
“That’s what we think happened,” you say. “I woke up to find the backdoor open. He must have jumped and bolted; he frightens easy, you see. I felt awful when I realised he was gone.”
As JJ listens to you speak, he’s partly distracted. It’s hard to follow along to what you say when you’re standing gorgeous like the first day of June.
“Well, like I said, it’s no trouble,” JJ repeats.
You smile brighter than a brand-new penny, teeth pearly white and perfect aligned. JJ doubts you ever needed braces. Probably born with a set of veneers. It’s with that bitter thought that he reminds himself what he’s dealing with here. A kook who lives in nothing short of a mansion, who can’t even keep her dog inside during a hurricane.
“The, uh, poster said something about a reward…” JJ awkwardly mentions.
Your face dawns with realisation and he momentarily feels guilty, but then you’re nodding fervently. “Of course! God, I can’t believe I forgot!”
“I mean, I would have brought him back anyway,” JJ bold face lies.
“No, don’t be silly, it’s the least I owe.” You pull your door open. “Come in, please,” you say, heading into your home.
JJ falters in the doorway. It feels as though even stepping into your home might put him short of a few hundred bucks, just from breathing the air. He follows the route you took into the house, closing the door behind him. The minute he’s out of the entryway and in the main corridor, his eyes widen like he’s witnessing a supernova.
“Holy super kook,” he mutters, gaping at the interior.
Marble everything. Expensive obnoxious artwork that must only be interpretable once you reach a certain tax bracket. Framed photos of yourself and your family on the wall at various vacation spots: France, Italy, Mexico, China. There are others, too, of dance recitals. A shelf of trophies and awards. Ornaments and figurines standing on podiums like he’s in a museum. JJ’s terrified to walk, as if one step might send everything falling off the walls.
He finds himself blindly following you into the kitchen. It’s crystal clean and white. Granite counter tops beautifully cluttered with every appliance you can imagine. You head to the fridge.
“You want a drink?”
“Uh, sure. Water’s fine, thanks,” JJ replies.
You nod and grab a glass that probably costs JJ’s entire monthly wage. Then you go to your fridge (it has a touchscreen for Christ’s sake) and dispense ice cold water. Holding it out to him, you smile, sweet like buttercream.
JJ sips and watches as you reach for a bag that lies on the kitchen counter, retrieving a wallet. Holding out two fifties, you wait for him to take them. His eyes stare at the unwrinkled notes. JJ’s momentary pause makes you frown.
“Sorry, that’s a bit tight of me, isn’t it?” you say. You dip into the bottomless wallet and retrieve another fifty. “Is that enough?”
“Uh, I couldn’t…” He clears his throat and finally snaps out of his stupor. Taking the money, he passes two fifties back, saying, “I can’t take all of this.”
You shake your head and push the money back towards him.
“I insist. You brought my dog back! I should be giving you more,” you say.
JJ holds back his laugh.
More? It’s a fucking dog! You’re about to give him $150 for a Goddamn seven-year-old labrador? God, Kooks really do just think different.
He looks up from the money and takes you in, properly this time. JJ recognises you. Not from keggers or house parties – he’s seen you at neither of those things – but from church. He used to be subjected to Sunday school in a desperate bid to ‘send him on the right life path’, and he could remember seeing you there. You’d attend the service, sat safe in your father’s shadow. Even though JJ stopped going, he’d still see people heading in the direction of the county church if he were in the area. You were a regular. Dressed in the prettiest dresses, hair perfect and proper, jewellery to the nines, always sandwiched between your mother and father. You didn’t indulge in the debauchery that most teenagers on the island did. JJ would know if he’d spotted you at one of the many hangs; you had the kind of beauty that demanded to be seen, like a rare bird on the marsh. No, girls like you didn’t partake in those things. You spent time with your parents and a small circle of Church friends, probably just as sheltered and saintly as yourself, and was in bed before sunset and awake before sunrise.
And yet, you never rubbed JJ the wrong way like all the other Kooks did. He didn’t know you from Adam – in fact, the first time he’d ever shared a word with you was today – but something about you…You seemed different. Genuine. Rich, no doubt, but not exactly snobbish.
An idea suddenly comes to JJ. It’s stupid, and rather out of character given his prejudices, but for some reason, it’s miles more appealing than $150. A part of him wonders where his sudden charity is coming from. Maybe it’s something about your personality and his underlying infatuation he’s had with you since Sunday school. Maybe it’s your dog and how doting he appears to be of you. Hell, maybe it’s because you’re pretty. JJ’s always been a sucker for pretty girls – Kook or not – and he’s always wanted the things that he can’t have.
All these thoughts race through his head at a hundred miles an hour, and there’s only half a minute that passes before JJ speaks.
“How ‘bout this?” he says. “I take a fifty, and you let me take you out.”
You blink once, then twice. “Take me out? Like…on a date?”
“Yeah,” JJ nods. The fact that your whole face didn’t immediately shrivel up like a prune at the suggestion gives JJ hope that he might have a chance. “What’d you say?”
There’s a moment where your eyes dip down to Ranger. He’s sat at your feet, watching the two of you interact with his tongue hanging out, mouth in a seeming smile. The second your eyes lock with your dog's, you look back to JJ with new-found confidence.
“Depends,” you say, correcting your posture, chin held high. “What did you have in mind?”
JJ’s never had to pitch a date to a girl before in his life. Usually he asks and they’re there: hook, line and sinker. His brain thinks hard and fast. “I can pick you up. Go for a drive, grab a bite maybe. Get to know one another,” he says.
You quirk a brow. “Is that all?”
Of course, you have standards. Hell, the guys that court you probably dine you at The Ritz and gift you a Rolex. JJ isn’t deterred though. Instead, he’s rather amused.
With a boyish grin, he says, “princess, I promise one date with me and I’ll change your life forever.”
Your eyebrows raise. “Bold statement to make, Maybank.”
JJ takes note of how you know his last name and thinks back to when he introduced himself; that strange flash of recognition on your face. You know who he is and yet, you’re entertaining the idea of letting him take you out. Curiouser and curiouser.
JJ doesn’t beg or barter. Instead, he just stares you down, waiting for your response as you visibly contemplate his offer. There’s a hint of a smile on your face, the type that might come when you’re trying to suss someone out. It’s barely there but JJ’s sure he can see it. He knows that look all too well.
“When would this be?”
JJ’s painfully aware of how desperate he may sound as he says, “Tomorrow night?”
“I have ballet practice tomorrow.”
“Thursday then.”
“Piano recital.”
“Jesus, woman,” he can’t help but mutter. It makes you smile.
“I’m free Friday,” you offer.
And, holy shit, no way you’re actually agreeing to this. JJ hopes the shock doesn't show on his face.
“Friday works. The, uh, cell towers are down on The Cut so how ‘bout I just pick you up? Seven thirty sound good?”
“Sure.”
You speak in a manner that tries to give the impression that this whole conversation is rather mundane to you. That you have Pogues asking you out every other hour, almost like a nine-to-five job.
“But pick me up on the street outside, not in the driveway.”
JJ doesn’t question it. He’s not going to argue to your terms when he’s somehow landed a date with the hottest, goody-two-shoes kook in Kildare.
“Alright. On the street, Friday at seven thirty. Wear something pretty, yeah?”
Your brows quirk. “Any other demands?”
“Yeah. Give me a fair chance?” JJ wonders, half-joking.
Your eyes flit from JJ’s face, down his body, right to his toes, and back again. Smiling, sweet like cotton candy, you reply, “I think I can do that.”
His body goes ice cold. JJ nods, cementing the dates and times in his memory like he’s remembering nuclear launch codes.
“Then, I guess I’ll see you soon, princess."
“I guess so,” you say, returning the leftover fifties to your wallet. JJ pockets his fifty, gives one last pet to Ranger in farewell, and shows himself to the front door. As it shuts behind him, JJ leans against it. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back. Then, he laughs. He laughs and laughs, mouth upturned in an astounded smile, and shakes his head.
“No fucking way,” he mumbles to himself.
John B is not going to believe this. None of the Pogues are.
Rubbing at his face in disbelief, JJ repeats, “no fucking way” one last time before walking down the driveway. He spares one last glance at the house. Friday. Seven-thirty.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
JJ has never been one to care all that much about his appearance. Half of his clothes have a hole in them somewhere, whether it be on the collar or in a pocket, and his hair is constantly tousled with salt-water from the sea. He isn’t unclean though. He showers and shaves and washes his clothes (though perhaps not as much as he should). He doesn’t think he’s bad looking, either. Lived experience shows that to be true, as he’s never struggled to land a date or hook-up. But there’s something about you, something about this particular meeting, that has him turfing through his chest of drawers.
He’s pretty sure he’s settled on an outfit. It’s ironic that it looks almost thrown together when JJ’s spent fifteen minutes obsessing over it. He washed his hair with shampoo and conditioner (that he stole from Kiara) and even used some hair wax to try and style it. Again, it probably looks the same as usual, but he feels better for it.
All the faffing leaves him running late. It’s closer to 7:45 than 7:30 by the time JJ pulls up your road on his bike. He’s aware of how loud the engine is in this area, rumbling as he slows to a stop. You’re stood in the sidewalk, arms crossed anxiously over your chest, glancing up and down the street. As JJ approaches, your eyes fall on him and a nervous smile sparks to life. JJ bullshits himself by labelling his hammering heart as adrenaline from riding a dirt bike on Figure Eight. You push some of your hair behind your ear as you walk up to meet him halfway. You’re practically glowing under the sunset sky, skin shiny with body butter like you’ve been bathed in glitter. He shuts off the engine and sits back in the seat.
“You’re late."
JJ cringes playfully. “My bad?”
“Mhm.”
You step over to him and linger by his bike. He quirks a brow. “You hopping on?”
As your eyes survey the vehicle, JJ starts to grin, smug. “You ever been on a bike before?”
“Course,” you say, almost too quickly. “Just…Not one like this.”
JJ offers out a hand and you hesitate for a second before taking it. Grasping your hand in his, you climb onto the back of his bike. Your summer dress rides up as you do and you nervously tug it down. Then, your arms gently loop around his waist. Laughing, JJ shakes his head. He tightens your grip on him.
“Gotta hold on tight or you’ll fly off,” JJ remarks.
“Promise not to do anything stupid?” you say, voice thick with nerves.
JJ starts up the engine. “Princess, I can’t promise anything like that,” he grins. Looking over his shoulder, meeting your terrified eyes, he softens his smile. “But I promise you’re safe.”
Your own smile battles through the queasy nervousness. JJ revs the engine and turns his head back to the road, and then he sets off. Your arms immediately latch tighter like a vice. It makes him laugh, and you mutter a meek ‘shut up’ in reply. Having you close like this; he can smell your perfume. It’s expensive, encapsulating you like you’ve been doused in it. Several bangle style bracelets lining your wrists press into his skin through his t-shirt, only slightly uncomfortable, and when he turns a corner, they shift and jangle melodically together.
Zipping down the roads of Figure Eight, JJ drags out the journey the same way he did walking Ranger back to your house. Gradually, mansions turn to shacks and quaint homes, and well-kept children’s parks into overgrown yards surrounded with chain-link fence.
He pulls down a dirt track, heading nearer to the marshland, and eventually comes to a stop. You catch your breath as he turns off the engine.
“Feeling alright?” he checks, glancing over his shoulder at you.
“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply.
You look a little windswept. Instinctively, JJ reaches out a hand to brush some hair from your face. Embarrassed, you help, calming down your hair and fixing your appearance. Then you use JJ’s shoulders as an anchor, climbing off his bike.
“So…You brought me out to middle of nowhere…” you say, looking around.
JJ kicks on the stand and pulls the keys form the ignition. “Scared?”
“Should I be?”
JJ chuckles, shaking his head. “Come on. I got something planned.”
He takes your hand, smiling to himself as you intertwine your fingers with his, and guides the two of you through the shrubs towards the water side. The P.M.S. Pogue sits moored in the marsh. A loan, if he helps John B clean out the chicken hut next week.
“Now, I know this probably ain’t like all the fancy yachts you and your folks have,” JJ starts, walking up to the boat side. “But I promise it runs like a dream.”
As he looks back to you, JJ’s eyes shamelessly sweep along your figure. The dress you’re wearing is pastel green adorned with dainty flowers of white and ivy. It ends just past the point of tortuous on your legs. You’re pretty as a vine and sweet like a grape, decorated with expensive jewellery. Pearl earrings and a Tiffany necklace. On your wrist, though, JJ finds a series of handmade friendship bracelets amongst your bangles. They’re made with shells and beads and tiny pendants of silver. Several rings sit pretty on your fingers.
Looking back to the boat, JJ pulls the ladder free with a grunt. It creaks from want of use: himself and the Pogues usually just climb inside or jump on from the jetty. “Ladies first,” he says, offering out a hand.
You look between his hand and the ladder, and then something deterministic overcomes your face as you place your hands on lip of the boat. With a huff, you use whatever upper body strength you have to climb up. JJ stands, taken aback, and his eyes falls to your bare legs. Your toes are pointed, calve muscles tense and strong, and he can almost picture you in pointe ballet slippers. Amused, JJ lets you clamber up into the boat. Sighing, you correct your dress and jewellery before looking down at him.
“Well? You coming?”
JJ gives a small laugh before nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”
He climbs with significantly less difficulty than yourself, proudly flexing his muscles as he does, shameless in his peacocking. When he gets to his feet, he finds you staring. “Like what you see?”
Your face flushes. You try and play it off though. “Just checking if you needed a hand.”
JJ grins, playing along, and you roll your eyes and walk to the wheel of the boat. He follows, pulling the keys from his short pockets, and turns on the engine which sputters to life. You hold onto the side of the steering hold as JJ guides the two of you into the marsh.
“You wanna steer?” he asks once you’re in wider waters.
You wordlessly step up and take the wheel. It’s easy, guiding the boat along. JJ hovers behind you, testing the waters by placing a hand on your waist. You don’t shrug him off. Soon enough, JJ’s placing a hand back on the wheel and guiding you to a certain spot.
“I found this place a while ago,” he says over your shoulder as he steers. He can feel your gaze on him. It’s terrifying, having you so close to him. God, he hopes it doesn’t show. “Best stargazing spot in the whole county.”
He slows the engine to a shuddering stop and steps away to toss the anchor down. It’s silent out in the water, asides from sea birds and marsh-side insects. Fish that break to the surface for a split-second disturb the water every now and then. Crickets and distant hooting owls. It’s dark now, too. Everything painted in a dusky blue. JJ grabs the old blanket that he stole from the twinkie and lies it down on the nose of the boat.
“Here,” he calls.
You make your way over, accepting his hand as you step up. The two of you settle to lay side by side. JJ tucks his arms behind his head as a makeshift pillow. You stare at the sky, eyes falling open at the endless expanse.
“Woah.”
“Pretty sick, right?”
“Yeah,” you say, laughing quietly. “It’s awesome.”
JJ grins. Nailed it.
For a while, the two of you just stargaze. He can hear your breathing, steady and calm, and once more your perfume invades his senses. A bottle of the stuff probably cost more than his bike. That thought prompts him to break the silence. Sitting up, he looks down at you.
“Alright, I gotta ask,” he says.
You sit up on your elbows, curiosity piqued. It takes everything in JJ to keep his eyes trained on your face and not your chest.
“Why’d you agree to go out with me?”
You smile, somewhat amused. It’s like you’ve been waiting for him to ask. “Well, that’s an easy question.”
“Oh, is it now?”
“Mhm,” you grin, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Christ, you’re angelic. “Ranger.”
“Your dog?”
“Yep.”
“What? You kooks manage to translate what they bark about or something? He give you some words of wisdom?”
You laugh, shaking your head. Sitting up fully, your bracelets chime together. “He liked you.”
“Yeah?” JJ says, brows tugging together in confusion.
“Ranger doesn’t trust easy. He’s a rescue and he practically chose me. The shelter people said he hadn’t let anyone near him since arriving, but with me, he came running over, like he knew me or something. He likes men even less. He won’t let my daddy within five yards of him without barking and cowering. He wouldn’t hurt you, but he gets scared and jumpy. But he seemed to like you. Seemed to trust you.”
“So, that made you agree to go out with me?” JJ checks.
Shrugging, you simply reply, “dogs are the best judge of character, after all.”
Humming in thought, JJ looks out to the marsh as he considers what you’ve said. It’s a little hilarious that a runaway dog is the reason that he’s got you here, alone, on the P.M.S. Pogue.
“My turn,” you say, seemingly initiating a game of twenty-one questions. JJ looks back to you. “Why’d you ask me out?”
“Pretty obvious. You’re fucking gorgeous,” JJ replies.
Whilst your smile turns to mush, you roll your eyes and act as if you’re unaffected by his words. “Seriously, though. I didn’t think I was your type.”
“Smoking hot girls? Nah, you’re pretty much my type to a T,” JJ goes on, charming smile in full view.
“What about Kiara?”
JJ gives a bemused smile. “What about Kie?”
“I know she hangs out with you guys. We’re pretty different people, me and her.”
It’s obvious that you’re far from low maintenance. You're proud of being a kook. You don’t shy away from it: happy to show off your money and beauty. JJ doesn’t get the sense that you’re haughty but it seems rather clear that you live your life to a certain standard.
JJ shrugs. “Guess that’s why I’m not dating her.”
“I know your reputation, you know. About all the girls you hook-up with and stuff.”
“Oh. You jealous or something?”
“No,” you say. Voice turning softer, you continue. “But I feel like I should to tell you that I’m not the kind of girl who has a lot of hook-ups. Or the kind who puts out on the first date.” When JJ doesn’t say anything, you feel the need to add, “just, before you get your hopes up.”
Pursing his lips, JJ nods slowly. He had a feeling that was going to be the case. You weren’t exactly known in the community for being particularly flirtatious. Hell, he wasn’t sure he’d ever known any guy to date you. From the way you spoke, careful with your words, and the way you acted, you were almost made of solid gold: pure through and through. So, having you take sex off the table for the foreseeable future didn’t exactly blind-side JJ. That to say, if you had offered it up, he would have jumped at the opportunity. God, he’s half sure he’d die if he ever saw you naked.
He could be a gentleman, though. He could. Something about you had JJ entranced outside of just the physical. So, if a hook-up wasn’t in the cards, maybe getting to know you might be all the better.
He’ll just have to learn to keep his eyes and his dick to himself.
Sighing, JJ lowers himself to lay down again. This time, he only tucks one arm behind his head. The other, he outstretches into your expanse of the blanket.
“Alright, princess. I think I can live with that,” he says.
Seemingly content with his reply, you lay back down, resting your head in the nook of his arm.
“It’s your turn,” you quietly say after a moment’s quiet.
“To do what?”
“Ask a question.”
JJ filters through the many in his mind, tucking the inappropriate ones away for a later date, and finally settles. “Alright. Was Ranger the only reason you agreed to go on a date with me?”
You let out a small tuneful hum of contemplation. “No. I wanted to see what you were like.”
“Oh?”
“I mean, I’ve seen you around the island and heard the stories. I suppose I wanted to know for myself,” you say. “Plus, I always do what I’m supposed to do. I guess I wanted to do the opposite, for a change.”
“Rebelling against your dear old daddy with the derelict from the Cut?” JJ jokingly asks.
“Hmm. Something like that,” you say, playing along. You turn your head to the side and meet JJ's eyes. “You’re just a pawn in my game, Maybank.”
JJ’s too sucker-punched from that to come up with something witty in reply. There’s a foreign thump in his chest and a selcouth feeling in the back of his throat as you look at him. JJ swallows it away, returning his attention to the star-lit sky.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
JJ revels in the miracle that he landed a second date with you as he fixes his hair in John B’s bathroom mirror. His best friend sits on the closed toilet lid, watching him.
“I can’t believe you’re seeing her again,” John B says for the millionth time.
JJ grins at his reflection. “I know.”
“I mean, what do you guys even talk about?” JB continues, face contorted in confusion.
JJ shrugs. “I don’t know. We just spent the other night talking about all sorts, really.”
“And you’re sure she isn’t being paid to go out with you?”
“Maybe the first time, but not this time, no,” JJ replies. He stops messing with his hair. Licks over his teeth, checking for trapped food, and dusts of his t-shirt. Looking to his friend, JJ asks, “how do I look?”
John B barely takes his appearance in before saying, “like she’s out of your league.”
“Come on, man,” JJ groans, shoving his best friend’s shoulder. He leaves the bathroom, John B hot on his tail. “You’re just jealous.”
“Jealous?”
“Yeah. That I’m macking on a kook and you ain’t,” JJ tells him. Opening the fridge, he tosses a beer to John B before taking one for himself. “I know you’ve had a thing for Sarah Cameron since we were kids.”
“No,” John B quickly says, shaking his head. “No, no, I do not have ‘a thing’ for Sarah Cameron.”
“JB, you’re a terrible liar,” JJ sighs. He takes a sip of his drink. Liquid confidence. Eyes glancing up to the clock hung on the chateau’s kitchen wall, he reckons he has about five minutes before he should leave for your house.
“So, seriously: what is this? Why this new flavour of the month?” John B grills.
JJ shrugs. “I dunno man. She’s just…She’s cute. And hot. And rich, and easy to talk to, and kinda funny, and, oh did I mention, rich as fuck. I don’t see any downsides, really.”
“Mhm, well, I do,” John B gladly counters. “She’s a kook.”
“Yeah, but she’s not like a kook kook. Kinda like how Kiara’s a kook,” JJ argues.
John B looks bewildered. “She is nothing like Kiara.”
“Alright, not in personality or looks or actual money, but in general kook-ness.”
“All I’m saying is that if you think this thing has a long shelf-life, you’re way more crazy than I thought you were,” John B says.
JJ doesn’t reply. Downing the rest of his can, he tosses it at the trash can (dismally misses) and heads for the front door. As he goes, he taps John B on the shoulder in a brotherly fashion.
“Nice to know you’re rooting for me, man,” he jovially says in farewell.
Then, he’s heading down the porch steps, climbing onto his bike, and setting sights for your house for the fourth time in his life.
Your house stands like a castle in the streets. JJ practically sees the driveway as a crocodile infested moat. He waits on the street at the foot of the driveway for you, arriving in time to see you make your way down the drive. You’re dressed in Levi shorts and a Tommy Hilfiger shirt, designer sandals on your decorated feet with anklets and toe rings. JJ sits back on his seat, engine running, and finds himself grinning as you smile at him. When did that start to happen?
“Not late this time, huh?” you playfully say.
“Learnt my lesson.”
You don’t hesitate as you climb on the back of his bike. You wrap your arms around his stomach, fingers splaying out across his chest over his t-shirt. JJ revs the engine.
“Ready?”
“Hell yeah.”
Grinning, JJ sets off down the street.
Once again, you’d left the plans in JJ’s hands. It was a little surreal to him, how trusting you were of him. Might be a place of concern, even. But, hey, JJ will take the win.
It’s still light when you get to the cliffside. From here, the view is incredible. An orange-pink sky that looks like it might taste of tangerine and peach hangs above a rolling sea. The view stretches on for miles, with the mainland off along the horizon.
JJ admires you as you stand in breeze, looking out at the view. You turn to face him.
“Why does every place I let you take me get more and more concerning every time?”
“We’re going cliff jumping,” is JJ’s reply.
Your eyebrows nearly shoot off your head. “That’s called suicide, JJ.”
“Nah, not here,” he says, shaking his head. He grabs your hand and tries to coax you nearer to the edge so you can see the drop. “Water’s plenty deep and cliff’s plenty high. It’s fun.”
You catch on that he’s not joking. Laughing nervously, you shake your head and take several large steps back to safety. “No, no, no.”
“Come on! It’s fun!” JJ swears.
Your smile begins to fade and your head shakes faster. “No way. I don’t do…That. And I’ll ruin my hair. And what about my jewellery?”
“You can take off your jewellery,” JJ argues, walking towards you, “and your hair’ll look good either way.”
“Easy for you to say,” you snort, eyeing him up as your arms cross over your chest. “You’re a guy.”
“First of all: rude.”
JJ tugs his shirt over his head, tossing it to the ground. Your eyes instinctively glance down at his chest. JJ doesn’t bother hiding his smirk.
“Second of all: live a little, princess.”
You scoff. “I live plenty, thank you.”
“Oh really?”
“Yes. Really. Have you ever been to Paris? Seen the Eiffel tower? Been in the catacombs? Or gone to Italy and tasted wine fresh from a vineyard?”
JJ raises a brow, sarcastic as he says, “yeah, every Tuesday. Now come on.”
He grabs for your wrist, tugging you towards him. You don’t push him away as he lifts his fingers to the clasp of your necklace, only momentarily struggling to get it loose. He gently places it on top of his t-shirt, and soon your many rings follow. You lean down and take off your toe rings and anklets, and then your earrings. The handmade bracelets stay, though. Standing upright, you take a shaky breath.
“Look, you don’t have to,” JJ quietly says. He can see the fear clear as day on your face. But you shake your head, newly determined by his offer of an out. Clearly you don’t like having your bluff called.
JJ’s eyes nearly fall out of his head as you pull your shirt off. He doesn’t even have time to recover before your wriggling out of your shorts, stepping out of them and carelessly tossing them onto the pile of clothes and accessories like you got them from a bargain bin at a thrift store. Stepping out of your sandals, standing proud in matching Calvin Klein underwear, you grab his hand and interlock your fingers, guiding the two of you to the cliffside. As you pull him into motion, JJ comes out of his filthy thoughts, mouth dry.
You come to a sudden stop a safe three feet away from the edge. JJ’s done this too many times to count but the adrenaline that floods the system before the first jump shocks him every time like a cold plunge. You gnaw on your lower lip in trepidation. JJ squeezes your fingers, mutters your name, and captures your attention.
“You trust me?”
Your beautiful eyes dance across his face. JJ almost sees you go calm, like a baby soothed by its favourite nursery rhyme. It seems that his question, as simple as it is, made something click in your mind.
“Yeah,” you breathe, as if realising it in the moment. “I do.”
With that, JJ gives one last squeeze to your hand and a fleeting smile, and then he starts running towards the cliffside. You run too, only a step behind, and the two of you hurl yourselves off the edge at the same time. Your scream echoes in the wind as air rushes past JJ’s ears. He whoops on his way down. The two of you pummel down towards the water, your hand never leaving his until you reach the surface. His eyes press shut and he prepares for impact as he crashes into the depths. The water is cold but not icy – it cools his skin comfortably. Everything goes quiet in the water, mellowed out and muted. JJ pushes to the surface and takes a breath of air, shoving wet hair off his face. As he looks around, treading water in the currents, he feels the adrenaline rise once more when he can’t find you.
JJ starts calling out your name, looking left and right and left again. Just as he’s about to dive under, you break. He gasps out in relief.
The minute your eyes open, they land on him. Then, the biggest smile he’s ever seen comes over your face. It etches itself on his brain with permanent marker. JJ could be senile and decrepit and still remember that look on your face.
“That was amazing!” you scream, throwing your hands up, spraying water everywhere. “Oh my God! We have to do that again!”
JJ laughs, soaking in your joy.
It’s weird seeing you, wet and without all your dressings. It’s like seeing a priceless painting outside of its frame: it makes it somehow even more beautiful. The setting sun warms your wet skin as you throw your head back, eyes shut, grinning like a mad man. JJ wants to seal this moment in resin and place it on his mantle as a keepsake.
You make JJ climb up that cliff and jump into the ocean about five times over, until the sun has almost fully set and you can’t risk the dark. As it slowly inches down and down towards the horizon, you and JJ sit side by side on the grass. Your hand is so close to his, fingers reaching out like growing ivy, teasing at making contact. The moment the jumping was done, you’d returned all your jewellery to your body. It sparkles with the damp. As his eyes drift down from your profile to your figure, he picks up on those handmade bracelets again.
“What’s with the friendship bracelets?” JJ asks.
You look down at them then up at JJ. “I make them.”
“Why?”
Laughing, you shrug. “I don’t know. Why does anyone do anything?”
“Do you sell them?”
“No,” you say, messing with one. “I just enjoy doing it. I make them for my friends.”
“That’s sweet,” JJ hums, looking back out to the view.
“What about your shark tooth necklace? Someone make that for you?” you ask.
JJ glances down at it. “My ma. She used to collect shark teeth that washed up on the beach.”
“Well, she’s pretty talented,” you smile. “Maybe she can make one for me, one day.”
JJ swallows thickly, jaw ticking tight. “She, uh, ain't around anymore.”
“Oh…I'm sorry.”
“It’s alright. You didn’t know.”
The awkward quiet that comes passes like a summer breeze. Sighing contentedly, the two of you watch as the world gets darker and darker, and the sun gets lower and lower.
“So, how are you finding it?”
“Finding what?” you ask.
JJ gestures to himself, to everything around him. “This. Pogue-life. Rebelling against your dad. Not doing as you’re told.”
You laugh, shaking your head. JJ watches as you pull your knees up to your chest, sitting dainty as a robin balanced on a branch. Tucking some hair behind your ears, you look out to the horizon as if caught in a daydream. A solemn look threatens to cross your face as you say, “it’s making me realise just how much I’ve been missing out on.”
And that…JJ wasn’t expecting that. He was expecting one of your usual playful jabs, soaked in sarcasm. Not that. It makes you more human and less Kook. More real. More attainable, even, for JJ. It’s like with every minute he spends in your orbit, he gets closer and closer to you. But everyone knows the story of Icarus, and what happens when you fly too close to the sun.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
By the fourth date, JJ’s practically foaming at the mouth, feral from restraint.
He still hadn’t kissed you. Hadn’t had the opportunity. You’d kept teasing him with it, temporarily placing it on the table before taking it away. He knew he had to go about this carefully. One wrong move and he could screw up all his hard work and send you off running.
What surprised JJ more than most was the fact that feeling your body under him was one of the lowest ranking motivators to spend time with you. Don’t get it twisted – it was still a pretty bloody strong motivator – but JJ wanted to know you and be known by you. You were interesting and captivating, and caring and kind. You were funny and had this sweet sense of humour that glimmered through from time to time, like a kaleidoscope hanging from a window-frame. With every minute in your company, his prejudice of Kooks was dismantled piece by piece. One run in with Rafe or Topper and it would probably be rekindled ten-fold, but for now, JJ learnt to see past it. You were a little out of touch but you didn’t act like you were better than him. Then again, he hadn’t taken you to his house or the Chateau yet. He kept the dates on common ground, where he never felt out of his depths or wallowing within them.
You hit like a crisp, ice-cold beer on the hottest day of summer. More intoxicating than any blunt he’s ever smoked, or any line he’s ever snorted. Light like a feather in how you move, soft like rain and driven like fresh laid snow. You had hijacked nearly all of JJ’s thoughts, in one way or another, and it fucking terrified him.
“So, I went for white and pastel blue. I think they’re cute. What do you think?”
You hold your fingers out for JJ to inspect your nails. JJ couldn’t care less about nails – half the time, his are dirtied with mud and oil – but you care an awful lot, so he can pretend. To be honest, he had only been half-listening to your story. His eyes had been fixated on your lips, daydreaming about how they’d feed against his own, how soft they might be as he nips at them with his teeth, how wet they might be if he were to slip his dick between them…
“JJ?”
He blinks out of his gutter-brain and takes in your nails.
“They’re pretty. I like the, uh, sheen on them,” he says.
You practically become alight with the comment. It feels like another brownie point that he can tally. Bringing them to your gaze, you nod fervently. “Right? I’ve never gotten metallic powder on them but I think I like it.”
With that, you sigh and lay back on your towel. The two of you are at the beach and have been since two in the afternoon. It’s now nearly seven in the evening. JJ thinks you’re at your prettiest in the golden hour. It’s like God himself is shining a spotlight on you, highlighting every perfection of your features. The way your designer jewellery twinkles in the rays, the sun-kissed sheen of your cheeks, the ethereal-like glow of your eyes…It’s taking everything not to look at your body, proudly displayed in a bikini. It’s blue. It seems you like blue an awful lot.
JJ distracts himself from your figure and his tightening swim shorts by petting Ranger. He’d tagged along for the day and is currently napping in the sun. You’d brought plenty of water and dog snacks to keep him going. JJ had supplied the seltzers and bag of chips for the two of you. He’d noted how you’d been making one can last for about two hours. He wondered if you’d been tipsy before, or drunk even.
When he looks back to you, eyes sweeping up your sand-scattered stomach, he finds you threading the seashells you’d been collecting throughout the day on string. You’d brought a little kit with you in your bag and had spent the last three hours making jewellery on and off whilst talking to JJ. You lay in a sea of designer accessories – Ray Ban sunglasses, Dior lip-gloss, Clinique sunscreen – as you craft.
“That’s coming together nice,” he comments.
You glance up to meet his eyes, smiling. “It’s for you.”
“Me?”
“Mhm. Need to check if it fits, actually,” you mumble, shifting onto your knees.
JJ willingly holds out a wrist for you as you coil it around. It looks hilariously dainty on his built form. Seashells and blue and white and silver beads. Then he notices the small letters you’d interwoven into the design. JJ. His heart makes that awful, jarring tug again. JJ can’t decide he likes this effect you have on him.
“Perfect,” you say.
You tie it off and fasten it around his wrist. He shakes his arm out a little to check its fit. You’re right: it’s perfect.
The moment your eyes glance up from his arm, meeting his, JJ forgets all his manners. He takes your face in one hand and presses his lips to yours. You let out a gasp as he does, hands coming up to press at his shoulders, pushing him off.
“What are you doing?” you gasp, fingers flying up to your lips.
His heart is loud in his ears, hammering like he’s thirteen and having his first kiss all over again. In the deafening beat of it, he dumbly replies, “kissing you?”
“Well, you can’t just kiss me,” you say, almost offended. “You have to ask first.”
“Alright…Can I kiss you?”
Your eyes are like raging storms as you stare at him. Anyone would have thought from your expression that he just asked to take you roughly in the streets. Trying to calm yourself with a drawn-out breath, you cock your head.
“Why should you?”
JJ frowns. “What?”
“Why should I let you kiss me?”
Now usually, JJ would be pissed. Annoyed and impatient, and would get up and leave and never look back. But for you, he can’t find it in him. No, it’s all offset by that same damn curiosity that got him here in the first place. You’re like an enigma. A blackhole. He wants desperately to know more, to understand, but is terrified of being sucked in completely. Terrified of what it might all mean.
So, JJ deliberates your question. “Cause you like me?”
“I do?” you ask, quirking your brows.
You must. You wouldn’t have stuck around for this long if you didn’t. Wouldn’t have handmade a bracelet. So, he nods, feeling his confidence grow like the swell of a wave.
“Yeah, you do. I think you like what I bring out of you.”
“Making a lot of assumptions here, Maybank,” you practically warn. But the anger is gone. Gives him hope that he’s on the right track. JJ tries and fails to bite back his smile.
“Maybe,” he says. “But it’s only cause I feel the same way.”
When you don’t speak, he takes it as a cue to continue. As he goes on, his heart shudders with the anxiety that vulnerability brings.
“I like the way I am around you. I like how you make me feel. I like talking to you, and I like hearing you talk. You just have this way of speaking that’s…It just makes everything feel like it’s good. Everything’ll be good.”
Something in what he’s said seems to take you aback. You blink a few times, lips parting as you sit, looking at him all the while. He hopes that if your thoughts are still set on the idea that he’s in this for nothing more than a lay, he’s just proved that wrong. He supposes with his reputation on the island amongst the youngsters, he can’t be all that surprised if that was what you had thought. But surely, after spending so many hours in your company, doing nothing asides from talking and innocently touching, you had seen past that. Didn’t you say that you wanted to get to know him, to see him for yourself?
“Do you mean that?” you quietly ask. It’s almost sad, the tone of your voice and the look on your face, like nobody’s ever said something like that to you before. JJ swallows the sick feeling that it brings.
He nods. “Yeah. I do.”
Slowly, a smile blossoms on your face like the first budding flower of spring. With a small, slight nod, you tell him, barely louder than a whisper, “you can kiss me now.”
JJ does so gladly. But he’s careful with it this time, makes it count. He sweeps one hand from your shoulder, up against your collarbones, until it cups your jaw gently. Tilting your head just-so, he leans forward and pauses just a breadth before your lips. And then, he kisses you. It’s soft and sweet and different to the usual blind-haze rush that JJ finds himself in when making out. The pacing to it makes it almost sensual. The feeling the kiss brings is alien to JJ; he can’t quite place a name to it.
One of your hands finds home on his jaw, exploring his skin, fingers looping into the hair on the back of his neck. When he coaxes your mouth open with his tongue, you sigh gently against his lips.
As the two of you kiss on the beach, that new-found sensation in JJ’s chest intensifies, and then it dawns upon him - this new feeling that your kiss brings. Different from lust and libido.
His eyes fly open. Stomach plummets through the sand.
JJ Maybank is falling in love with you.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
As the summer stretched on, JJ realised he’d spent most of June in your company, growing closer and closer. It felt natural now to have your hand intertwined with his. JJ can hardly remember a time when wasn’t talking to you, or talking about you, or thinking of you, or organising his days around meeting you. He knew what it meant, what all of it meant, and this impending feeling of something grew with every word passed and every kiss shared. It almost felt like he was watching a sand-timer. Seeing each grain slip by, counting down until the inevitable end, just like most things in his life did.
He'd introduced you to the Pogues upon everyone’s insistence, including your own. John B was still in disbelief that JJ had managed to keep you around for as long as he had. Pope, on the other hand, was practically suspicious of it. It was as if he needed the cold, hard evidence for proof that JJ wasn’t spinning yarns. Kiara had of course jumped at the opportunity to gloat about the ‘good karma’ she’d bestowed upon JJ, by encouraging him to return Ranger to you. When she’d met you, she’d be apprehensive. Distrusting of your Kook status, having known you more than the others from attending Kook Academy with you. But JJ was sure she’d warm up, bit by bit. It helped that you wanted to try new things. You wanted to try the whole Pogue lifestyle. You let JJ take you surfing and begged to try his bike out. You let John B teach you to fish and wrestled Pope on nights spent around the campfire. You’d share seltzers with Kiara and sang along whenever she played the uke. And, oh, of course you could sing. You’d had lessons, you see, as you had with practically every other extra circular on earth. Piano, violin, ballet, tap…Shit, it was like you were collecting Pokémon or something.
In fact, it scared JJ how easy it was to pick up on the little details about you. It was like collecting stones on the beach: before you know it, your pockets are weighing you down, filled with tiny little pebbles. You were a fruity girl: cocktails and sangria and wine and seltzers – never beer. You weren’t a heavy drinker. Didn’t partake in shots apart from Cherry Bombs. You preferred sweet over salty; always took creamer and syrup in your coffee, in that order; rom coms from the nineties and noughties were your kryptonite, and you loathed fast and furious; skirts before shorts; Tiffany before Pandora; lip gloss over lip stick. God, the tingly sensation from plumping lip gloss was all too familiar to JJ now, from having it smear off your mouth to his.
After the kiss on the beach, mouths and hands had only continued to wander. It’s like JJ’s admission that this was more than just trying to score you for sex was the passcode to open you up. You weren’t prudish. In fact, when JJ met you, he was half certain that maybe you were a virgin. But no…now he found that very hard to believe.
Saying all that, it still felt bizarre to be seen out in public with you. It wasn’t a secret, had never been really, but JJ remained surprised at how willing you were to take his hand in public. To be seen with him by everyone in the County. It was like you wanted to show him off, parade him around like he was something special, like one of your many Prada purses. It almost made JJ want to question if you had ulterior motives.
“You wanna just split a portion of fries?” JJ asks, looking at The Wreck’s menu. You were there for lunch.
You hum in thought. “Maybe. I want mac and cheese though.”
“We can get that, too. I mean, you’re paying, right?”
You prod him under the table with your foot. He gives a playful laugh, grinning childishly. He’d started calling you his sugar mommy since you had to pay for gas when his card got declined. It softened the sting of embarrassment that came with being broke, especially when compared to you. I mean, even now, he sits in a thrifted t-shirt, the decal on the chest nearly faded with how much it had been worn and washed, whilst you’re in your new threads. Dior threads, for that matter.
“Hiya. You guys ready to order?” the waitress asks.
JJ glances up from the menu and shit. Shit shit shit. The minute his eyes meet hers, recognition dawns upon her. It’s weird seeing this girl – Lily, he thinks her name is – from this angle. Last time they’d seen each other, she’d been laying underneath him…
You’re thankfully blissfully unaware, eyes trained on the menu.
“JJ. Long time no see.”
With that, your head darts up. Great.
“Hey…Lily. How are you?”
At least luck is partly on his side: he got her name right. She places a hand on his waist. “Fine, thanks. Been a while since I’ve seen you around.”
“I’ve been busy,” JJ says.
“I bet. Remember a time when you were busy with other things…”
Her tone speaks volumes, as do her eyes as she surveys his body, smiling flirtatiously.
Suddenly, your hand is extending across the table, towards Lily. JJ looks to you to find a sickly, sweet smile on your face.
“I don’t think we’ve met before,” you say, voice honied. She shakes your hand as you introduce yourself. “You know JJ?”
“We have a…history, of sorts,” Lily replies.
“Oh. Well, any friend of JJ’s is a friend of mine.”
Looking to JJ, there’s an emotion in your eyes that he’s never seen before. It’s terrifying and sexy as hell. Raising a hand, your fingers leisurely splay across the expanse of JJ’s shoulder, manicured nails digging-in only so. Not enough to cause damage but enough to make a point. Enough to mark your territory.
“Babe? Can you order for me?”
“Uh, course,” JJ says, clearing his throat.
Looking down at the menu, eyes not even fixating on any of the words, JJ reals of an order. Lily scribbles it down, takes the menus, and leaves without another word. The minute she’s out of sight, you drop the act, hand unlatching from his body. JJ raises his brows, holding back his laugh as he turns to you.
"What a bitch," you mutter. You wash away your words with a sip of your water.
“Didn’t take you as the jealous type.”
“Yeah, well, some girls need to learn when to shut their traps,” you lowly return. Sighing, you close your eyes and shake your head. “Sorry. That wasn’t very girls-girl of me.”
“Mm. If only your daddy could hear you now,” JJ adds, sighing disapprovingly.
You shoot him an unimpressed glare. JJ brings his glass to his lips, having a sip of his water.
“You sleep with her?”
JJ chokes and coughs. “Jesus. Straight shooter."
“Better not be talking about yourself there, Maybank.”
JJ laughs, putting his cup down. Looking to you, he shrugs. “Yeah. Like…three months ago, alright? It was before we met.”
“Mhm. You sleep with anyone since we met?” you wonder.
JJ can’t place your tone but something tells him that this question will make or break him. Thankfully, there isn’t even a need to lie. “No.”
“You swear?”
“Scout’s honour,” he says, lifting three fingers whilst simultaneously marking his heart with a cross. “Shit, I don’t want you to claw my eyes out. Or any other girls, for that matter.”
You shove his shoulder gently, smile creeping back to your lips. “Shut up. Like I’d ever. The Bible frowns upon it.”
“What about ‘an eye for an eye’?”
“Ooh. Somebody went to Sunday School,” you tease.
“Yeah, just so I could gawk at you,” he smoothly returns, winking for good measure. With that, JJ knows he’s back in your good books.
When Lily brings the food over, she doesn’t try to strike up any conversation. Dare JJ say, she looks terrified to be within a foot of the table. JJ knew you had an edge but this is different. This possessiveness, this proprietorial energy that came over you…Fuck, he knows what’s the newest addition to his wank-bank.
The two of you eat, talking about what you should do tomorrow (because, of course, he’ll spend tomorrow with you) and then JJ desperately tries to give constructive feedback to your latest Pinterest board of hairstyle inspiration. He gets up to pay. It’ll probably cost half his wage but it’s worth it. I mean, this meal is pretty dismal compared to the feasts you’re used to, but you never complain. Saying that, it doesn’t go unnoticed that when it’s on your dime, you’re far more willing to get a lemonade and a dessert. When it’s JJ paying, you say you’re happy with tap water and splitting a side. It’s mildly mortifying.
Lily is stood at the counter. “Ready to pay?”
“Tell me the damage,” is JJ’s reply.
“Twenty dollars thirty,” she says, punching buttons on the register.
JJ’s stomach twists. Fuck, he hopes his card doesn’t decline. She holds out the machine for him and he swipes his card.
“How long has that been going on then?” Lily asks.
JJ follows her gaze to you. You’re sat at the table, reapplying Dior lip gloss with an Armani compact mirror. He’s half convinced that if anything bought from Target touched your skin you might implode.
“Bout a month,” he says.
“Hm. Never took her as one to venture out of Figure Eight.”
“Never took you as one to judge random people,” JJ counters, anger ticking with her unneeded commentary.
“I’m just saying. She’s a Kook, JJ.”
“Did it go through?” he asks, cutting the conversation short.
Lily sighs, looking down at the card machine. Nodding, she goes to get his receipt. But before she hands it over, she feels the need to add, “just…maybe ask yourself what she’s getting out of this? Girls like that…They’re sneaky. Just, watch your back.”
JJ takes the receipt hastily and walks off before he can’t bite his tongue any longer. As much as it pisses him off to hear someone who doesn’t even know you talk like that, there was a sincerity to Lily’s voice that speaks to JJ’s insecurities. Massages them. It certainly doesn’t help that the minute JJ arrives back at the table, you ask, “did you have enough?”
JJ hates how the rest of the day, that one interaction – that one moment – at the Wreck keeps him disconnected from you. Anytime you ask what’s wrong, it’s the same excuse: ‘I’m just tired, s’all.’ But whenever there’s a second for thought, Lily’s voice echoes around his head.
Ask yourself what she’s getting out of this.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
“How in the hell do you not get lost in this place?” JJ asks you as you wander through your house.
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I grew up here.”
It’s laughable, the difference of JJ’s house to yours. He’s never taken you to his home; kept your dates and hangouts to the Chateau or the Twinkie, or anywhere but his house. He’s half-certain that you might just dip if you saw the state that he lives in. Plus, he can’t risk his dad showing up and meeting you. He’d hate you – the same way he hated most people – and again, you’d be gone in a second. In fact, as more time passes, JJ realises more and more that he’s got an eye on the door, waiting for you to walk through it without a second glance.
“You want some tea?” you ask. JJ shrugs his yes. He’s never tried it before but no time like the present, right?
You guide the two of you to the kitchen. As you pass by room after room, JJ nervously glances around. “So, uh…Your dad or mom home, or?”
“Relax, Maybank,” you grin. “They’re on a cruise. They don’t get back until Tuesday.”
“Oh, cool, cool. I mean, I ain't have been bothered if they were home.”
You bark out a laugh. Opening a kitchen cupboard, you talk as you retrieve two mugs. “Oh really? So you haven’t been avoiding my house like the plague because of my parents?”
JJ rolls his eyes. Busted. You go to heat up the water, grabbing two fruit tea bags and depositing them in each mug. JJ looks around the kitchen, searching for a certain dog. As if you can hear his thoughts, you say, “Ranger’s in the sunroom. If you call him, he’ll probably come.”
So, JJ does just that. Sure enough, Ranger trudges through the house and into the kitchen, tail wagging. He looks as if he’s just woken up from a nap. JJ grins, watching as his energy returns the moment he sets eyes on yourself and JJ, and the blonde-haired boy falls to his knees, arms outstretched. God, he missed this old fart of a dog.
“Why don’t you bring him along to the Chateau more?”
“Where would he ride? We always take your bike,” you laugh.
“Probably for the best, anyway. John B would definitely try and steal him,” JJ mumbles.
“Oh, and you wouldn’t?”
Insecurity picks at JJ like a scab. “What does that mean?”
You quirk a brow, unaware of the almost offence caused. “JJ, you would pick that dog over me in a heartbeat, if it came down to it.”
Of course. Of course you were talking about the dog, and not making some dig about his family reputation, or his sticky fingers. Shit, it’s like ever since that day at the Wreck, his insecurities had tripled in size and volume. Every time you looked at him, JJ wasn’t sure if you were passing judgement and he hated himself for it: for becoming so suspicious of you, when you’d done nothing to warrant it. But he couldn’t help it. It was like a reflex.
Once the tea is made and Ranger’s retired back in another sunny patch to sleep, the two of you head upstairs to your bedroom. JJ began to recount the story of the Grady White discovery and the Motel Room after the last hurricane’s end. He’s half certain that you don’t fully believe him.
“So, what did you find in the motel room?” you ask, pushing open your bedroom door.
“It was fucking crazy! Like a shit ton of money and this weird map. Oh, yeah, and…” JJ ditches his backpack by the foot of your bed and unzips it. Proud as a Superbowl jock, he presents the gun he stole. “This.”
Your mouth drops open. You place the two mugs of tea on your desk (on coasters, because of course) and reach out for it. JJ frowns and holds it out of your reach.
“Let me hold it.”
This reaction, out of all the reactions, was the one he expected the least. “No way.”
“Come on!”
“Nu-uh. You’ll shoot my dick off."
Rolling your eyes, you quip, “wouldn’t that be a gift for mankind? Come on!”
Sighing, he relents. Double checks the safety is on before passing the gun to you. You hold it like it’s a priceless artefact or a Louboutin heel (both as equal in value to yourself).
“It’s heavier than I thought,” you mumble, inspecting it.
Is it bad that JJ thinks you look unbelievably hot holding a gun right now? Probably. He can address that later in life when he eventually winds up in therapy.
“Yeah, these things are the shit,” JJ boasts, taking it back. He pretends to aim with it, gun pointed directly at one of your bears. At your scolding he puts it away again. “Anyway, now we got this dumb ass compass. JB thinks it’s got a clue in it, but I’m not so sure.”
JJ accepts the tea that you offer him as the two of you take perch on your bed, you at the foot and him at the head. You sit cross legged, nodding along to his tale, interested. JJ’s not entirely sure why he’s telling you this, especially when he was so adamant that the Pogues keep it on the down low, but something in him tells him that it’s okay for you to know. Useful, even, though he has no idea how. When he wraps up the story, he takes in your room. It’s just as he pictured it to be. Immaculately clean, psychopath level organised, decorated with brand after brand, China-white and pastel blue detailing every turn of the head. Looking back to you, he sniggers.
“You look like a witch right now.”
You take in the way you’re sitting and laugh, making a point to cradle your mug of tea between two hands. God, you’re adorable. The years of ballet have paid off: your back is straight as an arrow. The two of you sit in comfortable silence as you sip your tea. Outside, you can hear the sounds of nature pass by. There’s something understated and special about spending time with someone without feeling the need to fill the gaps. Just…existing. As JJ finishes his tea, you nod to his empty mug.
“Want me to read your tea leaves?” you ask.
JJ eyes you up, entertained. “No way you know how to do that.”
“Course I do. Here.”
You put your mug down on the windowsill and hold out a hand out for his. He passes you the empty mug and leans back against the cushioned headboard. Hell, if he had a bed like this, he’d never leave. You hum in deep contemplative thought as you look into the mug. Eyebrows knitting together, lips pursing, you study the scraps of tea leaves intently. JJ tries to stifle his laughs. It’s clearly a ploy. He can see right through the act.
“Ah, well…These are very good leaves,” you suddenly announce.
JJ plays along. “Oh, really?”
“Mhm. Yeah, yeah, I see a great fortune in your future,” you tell him. A glance up to his face, stupid grin on your lips, and then back to the mug. “Mhm. Yep, I see a…A boat.”
“Oh yeah? A Grady White by any chance?” JJ jests.
“Oh, no. This thing…It’s like the titanic. Big ship.”
“You have a way with words, princess.”
“And! A rainforest! And stones!”
“Alright, this tea’s gone to your head,” JJ laughs, reaching over for his mug.
You giggle as he takes it back, ditching it half-arsed on the bedside table so he can drag you to him by your forearms. Half tumbling forward, your hands ungainly catch yourself on his sturdy frame. You’re still laughing as he kisses you. JJ smiles against your mouth.
“I’m telling you,” you manage out through kisses and giggles. “You’re gonna be very fortunate in your future.”
“Mm, I’m fortunate now,” JJ replies, chasing your lips.
He uses a hand to hoist you further into his lap. You finally find purchase, a hand sliding along his neck, tantalisingly slow and smooth. As JJ’s lips creep along your jaw and inch down your neck, you lean your head, giving him more and more canvas to work with.
“I’m very lucky, you know,” you say, sounding short of breath.
JJ just hums. He continues his tapestry of love bites and kisses as you ramble on. He loves how soft it is with you; how there’s time for pause, for thought, for laughter. It’s the polar opposite to what he knows. Frenzied hands and sex in a timeframe. The patience of sex with you isn’t without heat, though. It isn’t like a married couple who can hardly remember what they liked about one another, chasing a high before drifting off to sleep. No, it’s like how people take time to pray. Like how musicians fawn over their music for hours, bit by bit, until perfection. So, JJ revels in your half-meaningful speech, slurred like you’re drunk despite being stone-cold sober, as he gently eases your cardigan off your shoulders.
“Every dance team I’ve been on, we’ve won…”
As JJ’s lips descend to your chest, you sigh. Fingers tightening just-so in his hair, spurring him on. One of his hands stays placed on your hip, a thumb rubbing circles on your exposed waist.
“Probably just ‘cause you’re a good dancer,” JJ mumbles against your skin.
“Not just that, though,” you muse. “I’m a good luck charm, I’m telling you. Nothing bad ever happens to the people around me. I’m lucky.”
Whatever you say, JJ thinks as he unhooks your bra. You help guide it off, sitting back against JJ’s thighs and lifting a perfectly manicured hand to his jaw. Your skin is soft like Mother of Pearl. Not a single cut or nick. Guiding his face up until his gaze meets yours, you lean down and press your lips to his. There’s no more laughter and no more silly stories. There’s no room in JJ’s brain to conjure anything other than thoughts of you. Your hair and your skin and your perfume and your nails and you. God, he wants to consume you. Breathe you in like vapour, soak you up like sunlight, feel you like the weather, all over him.
Nobody’s prettier than you.
Nobody prettier from this view, nestled between your thighs, almost suffocating as he swallows you up. More and more – insatiable. The distinct taste of you sits heavy on his tongue. It spurs him on like cocaine, energy unrelenting as he goes down on you. The sounds you make, the way you grab at him, grasp at the sheets, writhe and wriggle like it’s too much, like you can’t take it. But you can. Have before. Will again.
Your body bends to JJ’s will like water. You’re so trusting of him; have been ever since you met him. Let him take you how he wants, faithful in the pleasure he’ll give you. Usually JJ didn’t care much if girls thought him selfish in bed, but you? No, he needed you to give the mark of approval. He needed your praise, your validation, like his sex wouldn’t have meaning if you didn’t think it worthwhile. The way you fit around him; JJ swears to God it’s like you were made for him. He has you on your front, fucking you into the mountain of throw pillows that make up the head of your bed. He keeps your hips and ass angled upwards, holding you steady as he ruts into you over and over again. You’re a drooling, moaning mess underneath him. One of your hands is clenching and releasing the sheets much like your walls are to him. Having you like this – Christ, it makes JJ feel like a young God.
When you fall apart, it pushes JJ over the edge too, almost like a suicide pact. He’s not sure heroin could touch ecstasy quite like it. Drifting away on dopamine, JJ pulls out of you and flops onto his back, chest heaving. You shuffle atop of your sheets, curling up as you let the afterglow take over. JJ knows he should dote on you but he’s so tired and spent. After tying off and tossing the condom out in your bedroom trash, and tugging on his boxers, JJ lays back down on the bed beside you, flat on his back. One of your hands rests on his chest – damp with sweat. Just for a minute, JJ thinks. I’ll just close my eyes for one minute.
JJ tunes into the sensation of you stroking the bare skin of his back. It rouses him from sleep. Somehow, in his tiredness, he’d rolled over onto his front. Your sheets smell of fabric conditioner and safety. Goose feather pillows and Egyptian cotton sheets; a memory foam mattress that mimics what JJ might imagine falling asleep on a marshmallow to feel like.
“JJ?” You continue to run the side of your hand up and down his skin. "Are you awake?"
"No," he mumbles into the sheets.
“I want us to make this official.”
JJ groans sleepily. “Wha’dya mean?”
“I mean, I want us to put a label on this thing. I want to be your girlfriend, and I want you to be my boyfriend.”
It’s like the mattress has become a gaping wormhole and it’s sucking him in. That very thing that he was drawn to, entranced with, that very thing that he was learning and dreading to be true, every little insecurity and anxiety that had built and built since the second date…It’s all arriving at once, hitting him hard and fast like a meteor strike.
JJ turns his head, looking up at you. You’re watching him patient, a giddy-type smile on your face, slightly disquieted with nerves.
“Well…How do you know that?”
Brows furrowing, your smile doesn’t move. Shrugging, you say, “I don’t know…I just know. I…I know it because I feel it.”
Those words do nothing to ease the panic that’s building up JJ’s body. He shuffles until he’s sat upright, staring you down like you’re something dangerous. For some reason, your innocent request feels like a trap to him. A con. A joke that he’ll be the unwilling punchline of if he agrees. And he realises what that impending feeling was, all this time. It was him waiting for the other shoe to drop. For Lucy’s point to come true and for the curtains to be pulled. To find out what the hell you wanted with him.
“You can’t just say things like that. That’s a really messed up thing to say to someone,” JJ mutters, moving away from you.
You’re frowning now, befuddled. “Why is it? It’s true, and it’s how I feel. I want to make us official. I want us to be together.”
“Well, you’re saying that now but what about if we do get together, and I meet your parents and your friends, and you realise how different we are but you feel like you’re stuck with me, and then all of it was for nothing.”
Face the picture of perplexed, your mouth contorts into something ugly. “Where is all of this coming from? What did you think we were doing? I mean, we’ve been fine this past month and I know that there’s something between us.”
“How do you?”
“Because I’m not stupid, JJ,” you sharply reply.
Good, JJ thinks. You’re getting angry. You’ll lose your temper and you’ll let something slip that you weren’t supposed to, and he can bolt without a muddied conscience. He moves away from the bed and starts grabbing his strewn-about clothes in a frenzy to bolt.
“If there’s something between us, why haven’t I met any of your friends yet?”
You stare at him. He takes your hesitation as confirmation to his doubts. Pointing accusingly at you, he snarls, “because you’re embarrassed of me. You’re embarrassed to be seen with a Pogue-nobody from the Cut, in front of your Kook friends.”
“What is your obsession with me being a Kook!?” you exclaim. “Have you ever noticed how I never bring it up? How it’s always you, JJ, talking about it.”
“Well, I feel like I ought'a!”
“Why!?” you vociferate.
“Because what the hell do you want with me anyway!? You’re going to mess around with me for the summer, and get your kicks, and rebel against dear-old daddy, and then ditch me for some Kook jackass, who you’ll marry and he’ll take you on ski trips and summer’s in the Hamptons, and send your snotty children to expensive summer camps, and then you’ll laugh with all your trust-fund friends about how you went slumming once too.”
With that narrative, you laugh in disbelief, mystified. “What kind of fucking story are you spinning?”
“One that’s based on nothing but the facts,” JJ shouts. He’s shaking and angry, but it’s just his panic in disguise. He saw a glimpse of happiness with you and instinctively wanted to smash it up, like a psychopath child and a harmless butterfly. “I mean, you said it yourself - you wanted to do what you’re not supposed to do, for a change. Have a taste of rebellion and then go back to your rich-ass bubble wrap.”
JJ’s seen you possessive before. He’s seen you jealous, and scared, and snippy. But he’s never seen you angry. It’s horrifying.
“Did it ever occur to you that all of that has nothing to do with you? Has nothing to do with you being a Pogue, or me being a Kook?” you yell. Hands flying up to your chest, holding on like your heart might fall out of your skeleton, your voice turns thick. “I was miserable JJ! I was never allowed to do anything; never allowed to go anywhere. I did what my parents told me to do. I went to bed by nine every night. I was wasting my time with all these fucking after-school extra-circulars which I don’t even care about! I hate ballet! I hate piano! Christ, I hate all of it! And my friends are fake as anything. They say one thing to my face, and come to my house for pool parties, and then bitch about me behind my back! They’re assholes, JJ! So, yeah, I didn’t want to waste my time introducing you to them because I don’t actually like them!”
His lips start to quiver uncomfortably as he watches you unravel. It’s like JJ was pulling and pulling on a spring, and now he has to stand and watch it snap.
Make-up free, hair still tousled from earlier, oversized t-shirt half hanging off your frame: there’s no Kook defining thing about you here. It’s just you - just as it always had been.
JJ’s heart cracks as a tear falls down your cheek. With a shaky breath, in a quiet, defeated voice, you tell him, “I wanted to go out with you because I wanted to live. Because most of the time, I feel so useless and so alone that I wonder if I’m even here at all.”
And hearing you say that finally allows the curtain to fall. Only, it revealed to JJ something entirely different to what he expected. To what he’d told himself time and time again. Seeing you cry on your bed because of him…JJ’s made some real big mistakes in his life, but this one surpasses them all.
“So don’t put your shit on me because you’re the one that’s afraid,” you say, stealing yourself as you aggressively wipe your eyes. JJ’s narrow. It’s like poking a searing hot skewer into his most tender of wounds.
“Afraid? What do I have to be afraid of?”
“You’re afraid of me! You’re afraid that I won’t love you back! You’re afraid of what all the shallow people in the County will think! You know what, JJ? I’m afraid too! But fuck it - I want to give a try!”
It feels as exposing as having you peel back his skin. JJ pulls on his t-shirt and shakes his head, turning for the bedroom door, mumbling something about ‘I’m not doing this right now.’
You dart from the bed and grab at his arm, stopping him. “No. No, you’re not leaving,” you blubber.
JJ yanks out of your grip, turning around, lashing out like a stray animal approached all too quick. “What do you wanna know!” He yells. You recoil. “What? That I don’t have a great life? That I’m jealous of how you live compared to me! That I don’t want you to see how I really live because I’m ashamed shitless of it!”
You’re crying, hard, but JJ can’t find it in himself to stop. Why won’t he stop? The butterfly is dead, wings torn from the body, antenas shattered from the beating: but it’s like he doesn’t even want dust to remain.
“That my dad beats the shit out of me, so I sleep at John B’s house!? That I’ll probably end up in a prison cell or an early grave!? You ain't wanna hear that shit! Don’t tell me you want to hear that shit!”
“I do want to hear that stuff! I do want to hear it!” you argue through your sobs. You lift your hands as if you might try and cup his face. “I just want to help you.”
He retracts from your almost-there hold. “Help me! What the fuck! What, do I got a fucking sign on my back that says Save Me?”
“No!”
“Do I look like I need that!?”
Reaching for him again, tears streaming, you wail, “no! God, I just want to be with you because I love you!”
JJ grabs at your wrists, driving you away from him, driving you towards the door until your back presses against it, all the while yelling at you. Don’t bullshit me! Don’t fucking bullshit me!
JJ’s never been lucky to have good things. He waits for his friends to get up and leave. Knows his dad will too, one day, just like his ma. He’ll end up alone, drunk, high, and not long after, dead. You? You’re just a glitch in his programming. A girl who saw a project - yeah, that’s it. A girl who saw a project, a thing to fix, and the moment you have will be the moment that you get bored, and leave him broken hearted and alone. JJ knows more than anyone: you’ve got to leave before you get left.
But as you’re standing with your back against the wall, you don’t cower from him. Don’t wait for him to land a hit on you. Always so trusting. And seeing you, crying, sobbing, begging for him to listen to you, repeating that you love him over and over…JJ knows you’re not the malicious enemy he’s created in his mind. He knows you’re not.
“I want you to tell me that you don’t love me." A shuddering breath, trying to calm your quivering voice. “Because, if you do, I won’t call you anymore. And I won’t be in your life…”
And JJ’s never been good at admitting when he’s wrong. Maybe he learnt it from his dad. Maybe it’s a defensive mechanism. Maybe it’s dumb, childish youth that he never outgrew. So, as you sob, waiting for him to say something - to say you love him - JJ feels his face turn to stone. Cold, emotionless stone.
“I don’t love you.”
He grabs the rest of his shit in one quick sweep and he leaves your bedroom before he has to see the long-lasting damage he once again inflicted on someone. Slams the door. Rushes down the stairs. Passes the barking Ranger, alarmed by all the yelling, and dresses as he stumbles to the front door. In the air of the driveway, he takes a gasping breath, cringing with melancholic agony. Panic rises in his chest like a fist is clenching around his heart, over and over. He raises a hand, rubbing at the uncomfortable pain. JJ knows this feeling well. Knows it from childhood and from adolescence. Knows it almost as much as he knows breathing.
Heartbreak.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
JJ distracted himself with drinking, smoking and treasure hunting. Indulged at night and diverted throughout the day to avoid any thoughts of you. He was lucky, in a way, that his friends were there to keep him busy. They only asked once why he wasn’t seeing you anymore, wondering why you were never around, and learnt their lesson never to ask again. He tried to hide behind the lie that he’d so easily told himself: that you were a spoilt-bitch Kook who would have ditched him soon anyway. But he remembers your voice and your face clear as day, begging for him to tell you that he loved you. He can picture all too easily your reaction the minute he stepped away from you, after telling the worst lie of his life.
Throwing himself into work was a good distraction. It’s hard to think about you when he’s thinking about how heavy the motor is that he’s lugging, or how close he’s cutting it on time to deliver groceries with Pope. His hurt made him wreckless, like he deserved whatever bad thing might come. You were good karma for returning Ranger and his mistreatment was bound to be paid back to him by the universe. Maybe that was why he’d been so eager to exact revenge on Topper and Rafe. Their attack on Pope certainly made it easier for JJ to handle his hurt when he was reminded of how awful most Kooks are. It was almost possible to group you in with them, to help mitigate the sting of guilt that came whenever your name crossed his mind. Almost.
But, like always, the consequences of his actions were bound to catch up to him. So, as JJ sits beside Pope and Kiara watching the outdoor movie play under the watchful gaze of Topper, Rafe and Kelce, he knows bad things are coming.
“JJ,” Pope says, nudging his leg.
“What?”
“Gotta take a piss.”
JJ’s leg is quivering with building adrenaline. “Hold it.”
“I can’t hold it. I drank too much soda.”
“It’s too exposed, they’ll totally see us,” JJ argues.
“I gotta go,” Pope insists.
JJ purses his lips and glances back over his shoulder the same time Pope turns around. Their eyes land on the three pissed off Kooks, sat like mob bosses, biding their time. They might as well be smoking a pipe and stroking their one-eyed cat like some '50s Bond villain.
“They’re blocking the bathrooms,” Pope observes.
Yeah, no shit. JJ looks around, noticing the woodland behind the giant projection screen. “Alright, come here. I know where.”
The two of them get to their feet, hunching over as they go to move. When Kiara asks where they’re going, JJ shrugs and tells her, ‘we gotta ring it out.’ With that, they venture to the screen and relieve themselves just behind it, out of view, into the shrubs. As they piss, Pope and JJ banter. JJ finishes first, zipping up his fly and turning around to keep watch.
“You bring the peacemaker?” Pope asks, referring to JJ’s beloved gun.
His stomach drops. “Oh, shit, I forgot it.”
“You forgot it?”
“Hurry up! Hurry up!”
“Dude, you had one job. That’s all I asked you to do, man,” Pope complains as he finishes up.
“I know, let’s go,” JJ quickly replies. The moment he turns, JJ comes face to face with Rafe. Fuck.
“What’s up Pogues?”
“What’s up, Rafe?” JJ casually replies, walking backwards with Pope as Rafe approaches steadfast. He won’t let on that he’s scared - learnt that from his dad. “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”
As Pope tries to make a run for it, Topper emerges, Kelce in tow. “Hey that was some nice work you did on my boat!”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Pope fumbles.
JJ assesses the situation. Three on two. Pope isn’t the strongest fighter. No gun. Yeah, the odds are not stacked in their favour.
“Not so burly without a gun now, are you?” Rafe taunts.
JJ’s jaw ticks, his anger rising with his annoyance. The adrenaline is pumping and working its usual magic. Bring it on, pussy. I can take a few licks - it’s my birth-right.
“Take one more step and I’ll rip that prepubescent face off,” JJ warns through clenched teeth. He watches as Topper approaches Pope leisurely.
“Hey Pope, do you feel good about yourself, stealing shit? Is your mom proud of you? Is your dad proud of you?”
Pope slams his head into Topper’s upper chest and pride swills through JJ. “Attaboy! Attaboy!” He grabs his friend’s shoulder, lifting his clenched fist. “Now with your fist, see?”
With that, Rafe claims him. They begin to get in a dust-up. JJ takes the first few punches; each one that lands on his cheek brings searing hot pain that quickly vanishes with shock. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug. He taps into the pit inside of him, deep and angry and bitter. His self-hatred, for all the shit he put you through, for all the shit his dad and mom pegged on him…Throws his own punches, then. Wrestles too. Blood begins to draw. Lips crack open. Eyebrows split. But then it’s two on one: Kelce grabbing at him, holding him steady so Rafe can just lay into him. JJ’s winded as Rafe’s fist meets his stomach. He collapses in Kelce’s hold as Rafe right hooks him. And every hit, JJ takes like it’s his earnt punishment.
“Come on, Rafe,” JJ provokes through the agonising pain. “That all you got?”
“Let go of him Topper! You fascist asshole!”
Kiara. She helps Pope first, hitting Topper with JJ’s backpack. At least, that’s what JJ sees through the double vision. The backpack. The gun. Topper grabs it off her and tosses it, and then JJ’s too busy getting the shit beaten out of him to see what follows. It’s all just noise. Blends almost cinematically with the sound of the old-timey movie playing. At some point, it even sounds like there’s a dog barking. Blood fills his mouth like he’s at some sadistic dentist surgery. Pain numbs his nerve endings and softens his muscles. Air becomes a rarity as he’s held in a headlock, half-strangled.
“Let go of them right now!”
Everyone goes still. JJ only notices because he finally has a second to catch his breath, gasping as the arm around his throat loosens just slightly. He opens his eyes, desperate to get his vision steady, and…no fucking way.
There you stand like some designer vigilante heroine. Hair perfect, as always, with not a strand out of place; jewellery to the nines; make-up enhancing your gorgeous features. In your hand, clasped between perfectly manicured nails, is JJ’s gun. It’s pointed directly at Rafe’s forehead.
Rafe laughs. “What? That supposed to scare me or something?”
You grit your teeth, harden your stare, and remain stoic and strong in your stance. Rafe just quirks a brow, a sick smile twisting upwards.
“Oh, what, you’re gonna be the hero here? Why don’t you just run back to your daddy and mind your own fucking business?”
“Let. Them. Go.”
JJ realises then that Ranger is standing by your side. He’s growling, looking feral like Cujo, salivating at the mouth, death-glare set on Kelce who still holds JJ in a headlock. Your command and Kelce might lose a leg.
“What’s it to you?” Topper snaps.
“They’re my friends.”
Okay, no, JJ must have fucking blacked out or something. In the brain damage caused by Rafe, he’s seeing things. You’re his own guardian angel that his dying brain has conjured - that is the only explanation.
All of the Kooks laugh. “Your friends?”
“I won’t ask you again,” you darkly warn, not a spit of humour in your voice.
Rafe whistles lowly. He mockingly raises his hands to his head in surrender. Shares a laugh with Topper and Kelce. It vanishes the minute you unclip the safety.
“You wouldn’t,” Rafe tells you.
Slowly, maleficently, the faintest shadow of a smirk forms on your lip-glossed mouth. “You really want to test that theory?”
And that, ladies and gentleman, is how JJ Maybank ended up in the most insane predicament of his life. Nobody knows what you’re going to do next: not JJ, and probably not even you. As JJ waits, his eyes dart down to Ranger. The very thing that started all of this.
Rafe sniffs. He juts his head at Kelce. When Kelce finally lets JJ go, Topper does the same with Pope. Kiara helps Pope up. JJ leans over, hands on his knees, coughing and gasping in air.
“You’re gonna regret this, you know that? Better keep a fucking eye out, princess,” Rafe warns you as he saunters away with his posse. If JJ wasn’t on the brink of passing out, he’d lay him out for even looking at you.
The minute the three Kooks round the screen, acting as if nothing even happened, you drop the gun on the backpack and race over to JJ. It’s hard not to flinch after his moments-before assault when you clutch his shoulders. He realises that you’re shaking. Hears in the quiver of your voice how shit-scared you are.
“Oh my God! Are you okay? Can you breathe?”
No and no.
“Do you need to sit down? What should I–”
No, definitely don’t sit down.
“Come on - we need to go,” Kiara tells you. She has Pope’s weight on her.
You seem to copy, taking her guidance from her years of experience with hanging with the guys, and guide JJ away from the scene of the crime. You grab the backpack as you go, the gun shoved inside (safety now on). Ranger licks anxiously at JJ’s hand, whining in worry.
“I’m alright, boy,” JJ lies to the dog in a slur.
swirling, becoming blacker and blacker with every step. His body is screaming for rest and reprieve. He vaguely overhears you tell Kie where you’re parked. Lets you half-drag him to your ride. The minute JJ’s helped into the backseat, safe in the smell of you, he blacks out.
~*~*~*~*~*~*
The first thing JJ notices when he wakes up is how much his head hurts. There’s a headache above his brows, similar to that which you get when hungover. It feels like his brain was a ping pong ball, rattled around in there for hours on end. Sniffing, he groans as he tries to sit up. There’s a hand pushing him back down to the bed gently.
“Just lie still, for now,” you say softly. “No sudden movements, okay?”
JJ groans again, eyes pressed shut. At the sensation of a straw pressing against his lips, he drinks.
“Open your mouth,” you say after he swallows. JJ does as he’s told, in too much pain to argue. You give him a few pills - presumably painkillers - and help him chase them with water. “I’ll be right back.”
JJ must fall back asleep. When he comes to for the second time, the pain in his head is significantly lessened, as are all the general aches and pains of his body. He dreads the idea of looking in a mirror: he’s probably black and blue. Saying that, it’s not like it’s an unfamiliar state to him. Opening his eyes, he immediately recognises your bedroom. As if on cue, you walk through the door, a mug of what must be steaming hot tea in hand. When your eyes meet his, a relieved smile comes to your face.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he rasps.
Making your way over, tea deposited on the bedside table, you take the seat next to him. Shit, no wonder he was sleeping so well. Your bed is like sponge cake.
“How you feeling?”
“Like shit,” JJ grunts. You stifle a laugh. Shifting to sit up, his brows furrow as last night comes back to him, piece by piece. “Did I…Was I hallucinating, or did you save our ass?”
“Mmm, I might have maybe just saved your ass,” you innocently reply.
Shaking his head, JJ rubs tiredly at his face.
“I’m not even going to ask what Rafe and his gang of fairies were angry about.”
“Yeah, that’s probably the best idea,” JJ cringes.
He finally braves holding your gaze. There’s a distance there - a reluctance to be fully present - and JJ knows it’s because of him.
“That was really ballsy, what you did,” he tells you.
“It's nothing,” you quietly reply.
“You’re probably going to lose your Kook card now.”
“Never liked it that much in the first place,” you say with a half-smile.
JJ silently laughs, shaking his head, mesmerised. He was so wrong about you. About all of it. “I was, uh...kind of a dick to you.”
“Yeah…”
“And…you were right,” he mumbles.
Brows lifting slightly, a small, amused smile teases your lips. “What was that sorry?”
“You were right,” he repeats, no louder.
Leaning in, a finger to your ear, you say, “one more time, I didn't quite catch it.”
“Fuck off,” JJ groans, shoving you away with hardly any force.
You snort out a laugh. The moment the humour passes, you look back to him. He feels as though he can hear your thoughts. Your anger and annoyance and insecurity and pain. He hears it all in the emotion swimming through your eyes. So, he nods.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, JJ,” you whisper.
One of his hairs falls into his face. Before he can react, you’re leaning forward, brushing it out the way. JJ captures your wrist quickly, keeping you near, almost panicked that if you move even a millimetre away, he’ll lose you forever. In that same frenzy, desperate to have you close, he forces out the three words he’s never let himself say to anyone. Ever.
“I love you.”
Face an exact replica of the one you made that day on the beach, you blink at him. Once, then twice. JJ nods again.
“I just…I can’t…It doesn’t…”
“I know,” you say, forehead bumping against his own as you lean down. Then, in a whisper, you add, “I know. It’s okay.”
JJ sniffs, suddenly overcome with emotion, and nods against you. As his eyes press shut, you kiss him. It’s slightly salty with tears but no less welcome. He winces as your hand cups his jaw. Kisses you through your mumbled apology against his lips.
And as the two of you kiss, JJ realises that this was all it ever had to be. It was never that complicated, never that layered, because all that mattered was you. Wonderfully, princess-perfect, Kook-turned-Pogue you.
#jj x reader#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank#jj#obx#outer banks#obx fic#jj x kook!reader#kook!reader#jj maybank x kook!reader#obx kook#kook x pogue
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Till death do us part - cl16 AU ❤️
liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe, alex_albon, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl and 1.768.087 others
charles_leclerc: I bumped into this girl at the park. Her eyes, they just got me, you know? I never really believed in love at first sight, but there I was. Y/N, I'm head over heels for you. I want to wake up next to you every morning, feel your touch every moment, and breathe in your sweet scent every chance I get. Je t’aime.
liked by francisca.cgomes, leclerc_pascale, f1, carmenmmundt, pierregasly and 5.672.203 others
charles_leclerc: Oh, finally. After almost 5 years by your side, the day we've been waiting for has arrived. We're married.
Mon amour, you're the one who brings sunshine into my life every day, the one who protects me, welcomes me, listens to me, advises me—the person who's there for me every single day, no matter what. Getting married is a huge milestone in our lives, and I want to cherish every moment of it with you. You're perfect to me, and I couldn't ask for anything better.
Je t'aime plus que tout dans cette vie 🤍
liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, scuderiaferrari, arthur_leclerc, lorenzotl and 3.028.911 others
charles_leclerc: Family. My dream since I was a child. I spent years of my life waiting for someone to change my life, to make me a better person, to complete me, and I finally found it. Not only as my beautiful and incredible wife, but also as my daughter.
Last year, my wife announced she was pregnant with a little girl, and this year she came into the world. And I can only thank for everything that has happened in these last months, they were months of many tears, but also of much joy in our hearts.
My wife and I decided not to share this on social media right away when she was born, but now we think it's best to announce it to you. I ask that you respect our decisions not to disclose her face or name.
Je t'aime, mon cœur. Je t'aime, ma fille. Us, forever, until death do us part.
#charles leclerc#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz#lando norris#cl16 x reader#f1 x reader#cl16#carlos sainz masterlist#charles leclerc masterlist#cute#arthur leclerc#fernando alonso#f1 imagine#f1 fic#ferrari#fluff#oscar piastri#milan#x reader#f1 fanfic#f1#formula 1#f1 x y/n#mclaren f1#f1 2024#f1 x you#scuderia ferrari
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mdni
idk something about getting fucked in price’s office
cw: p in v sex
“you have to be quiet, love,” john says while he has you bent over his desk with your skirt up and panties wrapped around one of your ankles as he bullies his cock into your sopping cunt.
you’ve got your face smushed into the wooden desk, drool leaking out of your mouth as you wail softly at the delicious sensation of john’s cock dragging against your spongy walls.
“i’m trying,” you manage to choke out between whines.
you’re gripping the desk for dear life as john’s hips smack into your ass with every harsh thrust. he’s tearing your shit up and all you can do is lie there and take it.
“try harder,” he snaps out as he tugs you back and forth on his cock, his grip on your hips damn near bruising. “if you can be a good girl and shut that pretty little mouth of yours, daddy’ll let you cum on his cock. can you do that for me?”
you croak out an incoherent reply that must be good enough for john, because he drives his cock deeper into your cunt, making you whimper softly. he’s tossing you around his desk like a goddamn rag doll but you don’t care. you want to cum on john’s cock. you can be quiet for daddy. you can be a good girl.
“f-fuck,” you hiss as one particular thrust has the desk digging into your pelvis.
“what did i say, sweetheart?” john asks as he pulls out then slams his cock back into your hole. “do i need to stuff your mouth?”
you let out a soft cry with a frantic shake of your head.
“make another sound and i’ll do it,” he snarls as he ruts into you with a low groan. “cunt’s so wet and so goddamn tight. i could stay inside of you forever.”
you whine in response to his words as you push your ass back against him. “please,” you whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear you.
but john does hear you. and the next thing you know, your panties are being stuffed in your mouth. you let out a muffled sound of disbelief at his audacity. you can’t do shit about it though, as he laughs in your ear at your displeasure. john’s laugh sends a shiver up your spine. it’s soft and dangerous, a warning.
if he wasn’t hitting your g-spot and knocking the air out of your lungs with every thrust, you’d be indignant. but that’ll never happen. john has every intention to fuck you stupid, and it’s working as the thoughts leave your head.
“nothing to say now, huh?” john asks, his voice mocking as he leans over to look at your face. he lets out a soft groan when he sees your dazed expression. “just look at you taking my cock like you were made for it.”
your grip on john’s desk tightens when his thrusts become frenzied. you can feel your wet cunt clenching around john as he drives his cock in and out of you. all you can do is wail around your panties when you feel that familiar sensation building. you’re so close to getting what you want. you let out a muffled shriek when john’s meaty fingers rubs at your clit in sync with his thrusts. and then it’s all too much. your orgasm knocks the wind out of you as your cunt spasms around john’s cock. and then he’s covering your body with his, as he pants and moans in your ear like a whore while he fucks into you and chases his nut.
when john cums inside of you, he never fucking stops. you can feel his cock pulsing inside of you with every thick rope of cum he shoots out. when he pulls out of you, finally, you remove your panties from your mouth. you whine when john strokes a hand down your back.
“you okay, baby?”
“i can feel myself leaking all over your floor, john,” you hiss at him. “i can’t believe you shoved these in my mouth.”
you flung your wet panties right at john’s face, then let out a groan of disgust when he stuffed them in his back pocket.
“i should make you eat your own cum out of my pussy as punishment for putting panties in my mouth.”
“spread your legs then.”
a/n: uhh 😵💫
#girl what is this 🫢🫠#captain john price#john price#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#price x reader#john price x black reader#john price smut#kyletogazwrites
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